Blind Mask
by Nicole Gruebel
Summary: While Erik has do deal with one of his victims, he tries to win Christine's heart once more. This will be EOC, but since Erik doesn’t know that yet there will be some EC, too. Please review!
1. Rise from the ashes

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Gaston Leroux's, Susan Kay's or Andrew Lloyd Webbers "Phantom of the Opera" … I just love it enough to pick some pieces of each and my own ideas to form a little story.

Summary: After Erik set Christine free, he still couldn't give up on her completely. But he had a long way for to go, and first, he would have to take care of one of his many victims first, which might bring some surprises.

Notice: This will be "Another Woman" story, but since Erik doesn't know that yet, there will be E/C, too. Please review and tell me what you think about it … this is my very first fanfiction.

Many thanks to my great beta-readers Lotte Isilya and Willowsong!

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**Chapter 1 – Rise from the ashes**

The pain inside his chest was like being stabbed with a dagger. No, worse - he had been wounded by blades before, but he never had felt anything like this. His mind raced; all his wisdom hadn't prepared him for such an agony and he just couldn't think of a cure right now. It had started when she left ... and when her last words were carried to him - the soft song of his beloved.

Did she sing to that 'pretty' boy to assure him that she would forget all about the Phantom? Or was there any chance that she sang one last time for him ... her angel of music? She had kissed him, hadn't she? Christine would have stayed, but Erik had been too ashamed to accept this gift ... and he had sent her away. It was the biggest mistake of his whole, unhappy life.

Then his gaze was caught in one of the big mirrors. There was no famous 'Phantom of the Opera' anymore. All that was left was Erik. Poor, unhappy Erik, who was damned to live alone … he really was a pitiful creature of darkness. The rage came back and he smashed the mirror with a golden chandelier - the first thing that his shaking hand had found. He put all his strength into it, as if it were possible to destroy himself and his rotten face with those blows. The pain didn't go away, but now he could ignore it for a few moments. If Ayesha hadn't already fled when Raoul and Christine had come here, shouting and causing trouble, she surely would have run away now. The cat liked Erik, but she was also quite jealous and didn't like visitors or too much noise.

He stopped, breathing harshly from his wild outburst, and stared into the black opening of a secret passage that had been hidden behind the last mirror he had broken. The angry mob already could be heard; soon they would find his lair. They would kill him ... and for a moment, he didn't care. The pain shot through him again and nearly brought him to his knees.

"Christine ..." he moaned softly, tears of a lost soul running down his cheeks. Just then Erik realized that he wore the ring on his little finger. It was h_er_ ring, which should have made her his bride. He must have slipped it on, after she had given it back to him.

It had been the last time they had met face to face. Her wonderful eyes had held no horror when she had looked straight into his ugliness, but they had been sad and full of pity. Erik had been unable to move when Christine actually had approached him without hesitation - just like the moment before she had kissed him. His first kiss ... it had left his poor soul somewhere between heaven and hell. But this time she only had placed the ring in his hand and made sure, he wouldn't lose it.

Why had she given it back to him? Why hadn't she just thrown it away ... or at last kept it as a memory of the wonderful music they had created. No, she did come back; although Raoul surely had been afraid Erik would forget about his last words and keep her. The broken man who mourned after his lost love could find only one answer. 'Christine would have stayed, but this arrogant boy has stolen part of her heart. She belongs to me, and she knows it. This boy won't have her for long ... I'll win her back and this ring will never leave my beloved again!' When he had made this silent vow to himself, he felt strength come back to him and his mind calmed.

Erik was well into the secret corridor, which was now sealed behind him with some nice traps, when he realized the pain was nearly gone. He could breathe freely again and where a few moments ago he had felt only despair, new plans were forming inside his never-resting mind. "First I have to settle into a new safe place," he murmured while he already knew where to go.

The corridor was as dark as the deepest night, but Erik knew perfectly the right turns to take to find its exit. His hand found the black cape on a hook as well as the hidden mechanism to open the wall, just as if he were carrying a torch. This was one of his escape-routes out of the opera house. It wasn't the first time he had had to flee a place he considered more or less as his 'home', and as always there wasn't much he cared enough about to take with him. His inventions could be rebuilt; his music was always in his mind. Some other treasures were safe from the fire and unwelcome guests, and he could come back for them at any time, if he felt the need. The most precious thing he possessed right now was resting on his finger.

**OOO**

Since Erik hadn't cared to put on the mask again, he pulled the hood of his cape over his face. He felt rather safe to go outside now like this, because it was night. Well, and of course there was all the tumult caused by the burning opera, so no one would pay much attention to a shadowy figure like him.

When he stepped out of his secret passage and sealed it again so that no one would find it too easily, much less be able to open it but him who created it, he looked around in the stables. The horses and other animals that were kept here obviously had already fled or been evacuated. That was good; else he would have had to take care of that. Erik was sure that Ayesha was safe, too, for the cat was far too cunning to get trapped. The growing heat and the noise of cracking wood and screaming people told him that he shouldn't stay here too long ... the stables soon would be consumed by the fire.

Like a cat he hurried over the street, right through all kinds of folk that were running around. Most of them tried to extinguish the flames or flee to safety. He ignored cries for help as well as out of panic. The police were still around, but fortunately completely busy with everything else besides Erik ... at least those who weren't down in his lair with the mob.

Just as he started to vanish into a narrow alley a shrill scream full of panic echoed though the air. No matter how much the disfigured man didn't care about the chaos he was leaving behind, this sound made him turn and his eyes immediately fixed on its source. The stables were breaking down with a deafening noise, and a large piece of the wooden, burning wall was about to bury a woman. She was alone and nobody else was near enough to notice or even help her. Obviously she had been stupid enough to stay too long in this dangerous area.

Erik was not too busy with his own misery to not feel a little sorry for her, but he made no move to help her, either. Not until he realized that she hadn't been killed by the collapse. He could still hear the woman cry and wail though the loud cracking of the bursting wood. In an instant he was near enough to peek though the flames, the heat was already nearly breathtaking. A formerly white dress now charred by the smoke … long dark hair, a slim figure ... "Christine!" He didn't care if anybody heard his shout full of terror. With a swift and fluent movement he swung his cape from his shoulders and pulled it through a dirty basin that used to provide water for the horses. Now the basin was leaking because it had been damaged by the collapse of the stables and it was full of all kinds of debris. But it was enough to moisten the cape to provide some protection against the hungry flames.

Without any second thoughts Erik jumped through the fire when it seemed to open a little, his face was deep in his hood, and he held the soaking cape close to his body. The smoke and heat embraced him immediately and he coughed heavily. Though his eyes still were teary he crawled towards the shape of the woman. Erik realized that she was silent now and another wave of panic came over him. "Christine!" He could smell burned hair and flesh even before his eyes could see clearly enough to recognize the truth.

The unconscious woman Erik gently cradled in his arms and under the wet cape wasn't his angel. She didn't wear a wedding dress, rather some crude, pale garment that probably wasn't too clean even before is became half scorched. She had burns on her arms and some on her face too, which she obviously had tried to shield from the flames. Erik knew that there was no time left to waste, for if he waited here any longer the fire would catch him, too. While trying to cover the woman as well as possible with the cape, he jumped through the flames again, and not a moment too late. He didn't care to look back, but he knew that the few larger wall-pieces that had a moment before sheltered and entrapped her in that corner were now breaking down completely. Instead he ran into the alley he was headed before and didn't stop until his smoke-filled lungs seemed ready to burst. Gently he placed the bundle he held in his arms on the ground, all wrapped up into the cape now.

Alarmed like a wild animal Erik looked around and listened for the sound of other people passing by around the corner. The uneasiness due to the lack of his mask came back to him. For now he was in the shadows, but in such a chaotic night anything might happen. Erik felt more exposed than ever, because he no longer was the faceless Phantom. Far too many people had seen his face on the stage, and now they were after him. A pained moan startled him so much that he even fingered for his Punjab-lasso, only to realize he didn't have it with him. To his relief it was only the nameless woman who was beginning to stir, not an angry mob who wanted to hunt and kill the monster that had set the opera house on fire.

For a moment Erik wasn't sure if he should approach her. She surely would get another shock if she saw his deathlike face now. 'Thank god it's not Christine!' he thought, sure that God would watch over an angel like her, even if He obviously didn't care much about Erik.

"Help ... me ... hurts ..." The woman's voice was weak and unsure. She struggled to sit up, but that was obviously beyond her strength now, and the wounds on her skin were hurting at every movement. Erik couldn't stand her pain; it reminded him of some very dark spots in his past he had tried to forget. He must have made an unconscious step towards her, because her head turned to him and she pleaded again: "Help me! Please! Who are you? Please, help me!" She seemed so desperate that Erik finally closed the distance between them and lifted her up a little bit, but he made sure that his head stayed in the shadows. "Don't worry, I'm here," he said, and his voice seemed to take effect immediately. She calmed and didn't struggle a bit as this stranger pulled her so close. Sometimes he wondered if this magic voice, which could manipulate so easily, wasn't kind of a curse, too, like his ugliness.

His hands were as cold as ever, but this time it was a good thing, because he could ease her pain with his touch. The burnings didn't seem life threatening, but they should be treated fast and well, or otherwise some scars surely would remain. While he was wondering if it was a good idea to leave her here, hoping that someone would find her soon enough, or if he should dare to place her somewhere closer to a main street, she began to move in his arms. No, it was only her head, which swayed in a strange way from side to side. "Keep calm ..." he began, and realized that she lifted her face immediately to him ... no, to his voice. Her eyes weren't open. They couldn't, because they were crusted with the blood of small cuts and bruises and burned skin.

She must have sensed him getting tense and since he had gotten silent, and his spell wore off. Shivering and with some bit panic in her voice she asked: "Monsieur? What ... Is the fire still near? It's so dark, but I can still feel the heat ..." Erik resumed his soft words to comfort her. Soon he used only soothing sounds, and it didn't take long till she was in a deep sleep, nearly unconscious again. 'She got blinded by the fire. It's _my_ fault ...' Suddenly he realized that there most likely had been more people hurt or even killed by the chaos he had left behind without care. A chaos that actually might have brought a similar fate to his beloved or people like Madame Giry, who was his ally. 'No wonder that Christine couldn't stay with me, no matter how much her heart might have wanted it. My soul is really as rotten as my face, if only I'd seen it sooner!' He was angry at himself. He had been a fool to believe an angel could live with a demon. 'But perhaps I can free myself of this ...' Erik wondered.

With an uncanny determination in his eyes he vowed to the sleeping woman and to himself: "I'll help you as best as possible. I'll watch over you, so that no harm will come to you ever again."

To be continued ...


	2. Down once more

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapter: After Erik fled from the burning opera, determined to try once again to win Christine back, he rescued a woman from the flames. Since this innocent was hurt by his fault, he vowed to help her.

I want to thank Doomed Delight ... for my very first (and so far only) review :) It's nice to know that someone has found this story and read it.

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**Chapter 2 – Down once more**

The night was helping Erik; it had always been one of his few true allies. Since his cape was now around the wounded girl he had no means left to hide his face. This made him very tense and he often retreated into shadowed corners when something startled him. Many years had passed since he had been chased like this, but although Erik was better prepared now than in his youth, he felt the old terror stir in him.

It was his advantage that he moved swift as a ghost and had eyes like a cat, but this wouldn't help him if anybody saw him with the seemingly lifeless body in his arms. Usually it wouldn't have been a problem to reach one of his other secret places undiscovered. Like the lair beneath the opera house most of his refuges were underground, secured with various traps and accessible only through hidden passages. Now Erik needed to skip some entries, because he just couldn't climb down something like a ladder with the sleeping woman. Because of this he had to stay unprotected outside far longer than he had planned, which made him more and more nervous. The other problem was that if he didn't take care of the woman's wounds soon, he could have left her behind anyway.

Finally Erik decided to take the risk of a rather easy way down to his new refuge, but he hoped the small church would be as empty as it should be at this time. The heavy front-door was closed, but a small backdoor was more welcoming. Inside it was as chilly as out in the night, but Erik didn't hesitate long. A well concealed switch revealed a dark opening in a seemingly thick wall. Some very narrow stairs led down to the world he was more comfortable with. Although he didn't know this hiding place as exactly by heart as his old home his breathing calmed down.

The man whom most people only had known as 'the Phantom' felt very relieved when the secret door closed above him with a soft sound. The tunnels through various catacombs were very much like the labyrinth under the opera house, just not as damp because here was no lake. Erik's pace got fast again as soon as the paths got wider and he was sure that no intruder had passed the invisible borders since his last visit. It had been a very difficult and most tiring night so far, but he just couldn't rest yet ... the woman began to stir.

**OOO**

Everything was quite dusty in the longish rooms, but most of the furniture was covered with big sheets of cloth, so that his belongings were kept rather safe below them. After he pulled those protections from the bed he gently placed his patient on it. She wasn't awake yet, but obviously the shock and pain were about to bring her back to her senses.

While Erik went to one of his closets he stretched his back and ran a hand through his hair and over his face. Like always he felt a little disgusted when he touched the deformed side and longed to hide it behind a mask again. A different sort of longing came over him when he opened a drawer and found the pack with his morphine and the injections he was looking for. Erik knew he would have a painful time when he finally could rest after this horrible night. His hand trembled a bit when he took the pack and began to prepare a dose for his patient, instead for himself.

After the nameless woman had fallen back into a deep sleep, which would last a while thanks to the drug, Erik took a first closer look on her. The girl's body had felt quite fragile under her garment, when he had been carrying her. In the candle-light she seemed indeed very scrawny and vulnerable, even more since she looked terrible with the burns right now. He nearly laughed bitterly at himself, for there was little resemblance to Christine in her now.

Still, Erik hesitated a moment before he began to peel the clothes of the slack body. He hardly ever had been given the chance to touch a living human like this – let alone a female. Over the years he had gained a quite impressive medical knowledge, partly because of interest and partly because he had to be able to take care of himself and it had been useful in setting traps and creating other 'entertainment', too. Still, even the gypsies, who were rather disgusted but not so much frightened by his appearance, mostly had preferred to listen to his advice and take his potions and herbs, than letting him actually treat them by himself. In the beginning it had pained him that most humans preferred to suffer from an illness or wound, when he offered his help, but this feeling did nearly vanish over the years. He considered animals a lot more reasonable in this matter.

Soon Erik was busy with cleaning the wounds, preparing bandages, creating a special ointment for the burns and checking for any other injuries. Fortunately he was a perfectionist and always kept a certain stock of the items he considered useful in his hiding places. After all they were supposed to help him in case of an emergency. He didn't mind however that they were used up for someone else; after all he wasn't injured and had slipped into the cool, emotionless professionalism of a real doctor.

When Erik finally covered the woman's nearly naked body with a blanket he felt that some hours must have passed since his escape from the opera house. He was a little bit worried if the dose of morphine hadn't been too high for her. On the other hand he was relieved that she hadn't woke up, it surely wouldn't be pleasant when she finally came to her senses again. He had suffered burns himself some years ago, and knew how much they hurt. At last she wouldn't be able to see him and start panicking about that, too. He really had had enough people who were terrified by his ugly face recently.

Her eyes seemed to have been injured by some sparks and little burning wood-pieces which had hit her, it could have been worse. Very cautious Erik had tried to do everything in his power to help her, but he wasn't sure if she ever might be able to see again. Only time would show, and till then her eyes will have to be protected very carefully so that they could recover - if that was possible at all.

Those thoughts brought Erik's mind back to Christine. 'I swear, if this Vicomte of yours didn't take good care of you, I'll hunt him down and kill him.' He pushed the unwelcome pictures away that showed him his beautiful angel hurt by the fire, because he left her in the hands of this fool. He didn't want to remember the time when he had drugged _her_ with morphine, so that she wouldn't have nightmares down in his lair and with him as sole companion.

Erik had to fight again the longing in his body when he put the morphine back into its box and hid it in the drawer. His laboratory here was smaller than in his lair under the opera house, just like the whole refuge occupied less space, but it provided almost anything he might need for the beginning. But soon he would have to think about how he could replenish his stocks now; it might not be as easy as so far. He hoped his patient would get along without too much of the sedative, just in case he needed some himself.

It was getting morning in the 'real' world when Erik finally decided he had to get some rest. Exhausted he settled in a huge, throne-like armchair. It had been crafted by him some years ago, inspired by old legends he liked to read back then. His eyes slowly closed, and while his chin rested on his folded hands Erik fell into a slumber; his last coherent thoughts circled around Christine and the kiss they had shared.

**OOO**

_Live was worth living ... at last it was now. Christine was beside him, she allowed him to hold her. Together they watched Raoul leave. He took the boat and didn't look back. Everything was at peace now. No mob was hunting him. His home seemed much lighter and happier now than in all those lonely years before. He didn't have to wear the mask anymore. He didn't want to. _

_Something stirred inside Erik. Since those dreadful days in his childhood, when he finally had realized that this horrid face in the mirror belonged to him, he had always wanted to wear his mask. He felt naked without it, unprotected and nearly always he was looking into faces full of horror and hate, whenever he showed his true self. Even Christine, who held his heart, shouldn't have to look at it. Why didn't he care to hide behind the mask now?_

_Even as he still embraced his angel and caressed her warm body, he lifted his gaze and searched for one of his mirrors. They were all uncovered now, and they were all around him. _

**OOO**

A sudden sharp pain woke Erik, and with a startled cry he looked around, being disoriented for a few seconds. He couldn't really get a hold on the last moments of his dream, but somehow his heart raced as if he'd seen a terrible thing and he felt a little bit sick. Immediately he regretted not taking some morphine, after all he should know better that his sleep was restless without it ... it had been so for a lot of years now. A wet tickling on his hand reminded him of the reason why he had been freed from this dream so suddenly ... Ayesha sat in his lap. Her delicate paws pushed against his stomach, and from time to time she obviously felt the need to add her claws, so that he finally would pay some attention to her.

"Hey, there you are. I'm glad you are safe. Did you follow me?" Erik was genuinely happy to see the Siamese cat. He had taken her to some of his secret places; to some others she might have followed him. But his hardly used bad conscience stirred as he realized that he hadn't thought of Ayesha and if she'd be able to find him again, when he had chosen this place. Lucky for him, she didn't seem to be angry, instead she purred and leaned her head and back into his hand as he stroked her gently.

The cat however had in fact something less sentimental in mind than her human companion. With a loud meow she demanded something to eat and fresh water. Of course she could fend for herself by catching mice and rats and found water that didn't smell foul, but she also liked to be spoiled from time to time with some nice food and watered milk.

In the past few months Erik hadn't taken as much care of her as before, but of course she wasn't a helpless kitten anymore, like back when he had found her. Ayesha didn't care what he looked like. Sometimes she was a bit annoyed by the loud music he created or his changing moods, but on the other hand this made him nearly cat-like. He even could walk around nearly as soundless as she herself and he didn't seem to need much light to see. It actually was fun to follow this man through dark places and creep around.

Well, they had had a nice life ... until the time when he had gotten more and more distracted. And suddenly there had been this woman, which he even had brought into their home at the lake. The cat couldn't like her from the start, she had been jealous of all the attention Erik had paid to this visitor. Soon she had begun roaming the labyrinth and her share of the outside-territory around the opera house more and more often. Of course Ayesha always had been coming back to him every few days, but it most likely had been this new habit that had saved her from getting entrapped by the fire.

While she had tried to hide from all the people that had been running around, she had spotted the familiar form and movement of Erik among all those humans and had followed him. Soon she did know where he had been heading and so she had used her own path down to this refuge. After all this wasn't her usual territory and she had to check it out first. As expected there were already other cats around that would cause her some trouble for a time, so she decided to remind Erik that he was supposed to feed her.

"Yes, my beautiful friend ... I'll look what I can find for you." With those softly spoken words he rose from the armchair. Erik didn't feel much rested, in fact his back hurt and his head, too. A short glance toward the bed told him that his patient was still asleep and hadn't moved; obviously the morphine was still working. It took him some more time to realize that his food-storage was rather thin here. He could survive a few days, but since he checked on those secondary hiding placed rather occasionally there was no fresh food, especially no milk for Ayesha or something that was suitable for a sick person.

Sighing he changed into some warmer clothes. Since the escape from the opera Erik didn't had the time and mind to shed the rather thin costume he still wore, it was mostly ruined now anyway. A sad look crossed his face. 'There will be much work to do, to start new here.' One could live in this place, well someone like Erik, but he had never thought of sharing this world with another person. It had been installed before he had met Christine. And since she hadn't seemed too comfortable in the lair under the opera house - which had been rather luxurious - he hadn't bothered to put more effort into those other places he called his own.

After checking the pulse and the bandages of the nameless woman he left. Ayesha followed him, so that those other cats would see who her protector was. This time Erik used a faster route to leave his world. He hid his face beneath the broad rim of a hat and the high collar of a black coat. This would do in the area of town he was about to visit. Those early morning hours were adding to his safety, because there weren't many people around yet, and surely none that would have been in the opera last night. It didn't take long for him to take care of certain affairs so that life under the church would become a little bit more comfortable. So Erik was nearing the refuge with some bags of food and other useful things that would be needed, when he sensed that something was wrong.

To be continued …


	3. Painful awakening

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: After Erik fled he hides in another refuge beneath a church. With him is a woman, who suffered wounds from the burning opera. He had kept her asleep while he was tending her injuries and trying to settle down.

I want to thank again my beta-reader Lotte Isilya … it's good to have someone watch over the story when you're not writing in your native language!

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**Chapter 3 – Painful awakening**

The fire was everywhere. It was hot and fierce. She had tried to escape this deathtrap, but she couldn't move now. The flames bit her like the whip of an angry master. Everything was hurting, but the panic was stronger. She didn't want to die in this blazing heat! Not really knowing if it was her voice or the cracking, burning wood around her that filled her ears with as much pain as her body, she tried to struggle free once more.

Erik had to touch the wall before him, to make himself believe that it really was closed. Well, not that this was a surprise in itself. This was the entry to his refuge and it was supposed to look like a regular stone-wall, but it should have been opened by the switch he had used before turning around the last corner. The mechanism was rather simple, it hardly could break down - and after all it had worked a few hours ago when he had fled here. Ayesha seemed to be equally disturbed by this, for her ears twitched nervously, while she sniffed at the wall.

Frowning Erik pressed his ear to the secret door and heard what the cat had already sensed. Someone was moaning and crying inside. 'The woman!' he thought startled. 'But what could have happened? How could she seal this door?' The walls were thick, even the false ones, so that nobody might hear Erik and his music up in the church or in one of the other near buildings and streets. However they didn't block every sound when you were so near, just like there was more than one entry.

While Ayesha stayed behind, sniffing curiously at the bags, her food-provider and protector ran back into the tunnels, took some different turns than before and squeezed himself through a very narrow passage at which end he climbed down a rusty ladder. Erik's hair and clothes were full of cobwebs and dirt. He had to wade though a shallow sewer and so his boots were soaking wet when he finally pushed open the hidden trapdoor. Secretly he was thankful that he hadn't covered this one with some furniture, but only with a heavy carpet.

In a heartbeat he recognized what must have happened. The woman was thrashing around wildly, but didn't seem to be awake. Obviously the morphine hadn't been strong enough to prevent nightmares and it certainly was no cure for the fever that shook her now. Erik tried to hold her still, before she could do any further harm to herself or the interior. She already had tossed away most of the cushions and her blanket. Some pieces that he had kept on the little table beside the bed had been knocked over. 'No wonder that she accidentally has found the switch to seal the entrance ... she could have done far worse' Erik thought sighing. Of course he had never imagined that this security-device would ever be activated from someone in the room, while he was outside. 'I really have to be more careful with her around.'

He talked soothingly to the woman and was not very surprised when she calmed and relaxed into his arms. His voice always had been mysteriously powerful and enchanting, just the exact opposite to his loathsome face. As soon as she seemed to rest more peacefully again, he opened the door and let Ayesha in. The cat didn't care much when he scowled at her, because he saw her nibbling on some fish which she had 'stolen' out of the bag.

**OOO**

After Erik had packed away the rest of the food and the few other 'purchases', he took care of his patient again. Some of the bandages had to be replaced and she needed something against the fever. A little bump on her brow seemed to be new; obviously she had hit the richly carved headboard of the bed. "This compress will cool both, your fever and this bump, but I guess you'll wake up with an ugly headache." Erik was a little surprised when he heard his own words - they nearly sounded as if he really cared about her.

To be sure, he disabled the switch that could seal the refuge from within. The door could be closed manually, too, but that way the outer opening-mechanism was still working. 'I'm glad that I never left Christine alone in the lair beneath the opera house. Who knows in what kind of trouble she might have brought herself!' In fact, he never had allowed anybody to be alone in a room of his, if he didn't prepare it for that occasion. Hardly anybody was ever allowed to enter his domain anyway.

During the day he took a closer look at his belongings, when he wasn't busy with his sleeping patient. Some old inventions seemed ridiculous to him now and he threw them into the room where all kind of old stuff was stored, in case you could use a piece of it once more. But he also found some music sheets or other stuff he nearly had forgotten. The instruments - some flutes and a violin - didn't get much attention at all. Erik didn't even care to uncover the old piano.

Every thought of music reminded him of Christine and how beautiful their voices had mixed. She was a true angel when singing, and she could lift him up into heaven with the wings she gave his songs. The pain of having lost her welled up in him again. It clutched his heart so that it became difficult to breathe. Trembling and with soundless sobs he collapsed on a claret sofa near the piano. The exhausted man didn't even notice when his feline companion curled up beside him.

**OOO**

'Somebody is crying ...' the incoherent thought slowly made its way to the surface of Erik's mind. He dimly remembered that he himself had felt very miserable, but somehow he knew it wasn't him. A crashing sound and the clanking of breaking glass startled him so much that he bolted up and was wide awake in an instant. Even Ayesha couldn't react that fast, and so he earned some scratches from the cat, who didn't like to be thrown off her sleeping place at all. For a few heartbeats Erik didn't remember where he was and what was going on, but then he recognized his old refuge and everything came back to him. Still a little bit unsure on his legs, since he had fallen asleep in a rather uncomfortable position, he stumbled towards the bed - which was clearly empty.

Another shaking sob drew his attention to a corner behind the abandoned sleeping-place. There she was ... trembling like a newborn fawn, moaning and crying because of her injuries, her sparse clothing and hair wet from the fever. It really was a pitiful sight.

The woman was so caught up in her confusion that she didn't notice Erik. On the other hand she couldn't see, and his soft leather-boots made nearly no sound on the thick carpets which covered most of the floor. So she shrieked and jumped when he touched her shoulder. "Shshsh … calm down. I won't harm you, but you have to get back into bed." Actually it looked as if she had fallen out of it, and Erik wondered how deep he had slept if he hadn't heard that at all. The noise which had woken him had come from a chair she had knocked over. Some glass-figurines, which he had collected years ago and usually were lined up on a near shelf, now lay shattered on the floor. "Be careful, you'll hurt yourself!" he exclaimed, but it was already too late. Sighing he just grabbed her as gently as possible, yet firm enough so that she couldn't cause more trouble, and lifted her back into the bed. The sheets got stained with some blood from her new cuts, but they needed to be changed anyway.

The woman had stiffened when Erik had grabbed her. Now she sat on the bed, hardly any calmer than just a few seconds ago on the floor. Her head turned from side to side in the odd angle that most people used when they couldn't see. She had tried to wrap her arms around herself, but the bandaged burns hurt too much, especially since she had managed to loosen some of them. "Where am I? Who are you?" Her voice seemed to tremble a bit due to the fever and her confusion, but she sounded quite strong and somehow fierce nevertheless.

Although Erik had vowed to help her, he suddenly felt reluctant to reveal too much of himself and his world. As long as she was blind she couldn't see his secrets, but he hoped that she soon would be fit enough to leave his home. After some days with his special ointment the burns could be treated by someone else, too. He would make sure that a doctor was paid and keep an eye on her, so that she'd be fine. "I found you after the fire at the opera house and looked after your injuries."

With shaking hands she felt for the bandage on her head that still was bound tightly over her eyes. "What ... It hurts ..." As she was about to peel at the cloth, Erik, who was standing next to the bed, reached out and stopped her hands. "You shouldn't remove this. Your eyes were hurt by the fire. If they don't heal properly you might never be able to see again. In fact there is no guarantee anyway."

Her hands flew to her mouth as she gasped in shock when those words hit her with the rather matter-of-fact tone of his voice. Some blood from the cuts on her fingers smeared her face. The already wet and slightly stained bandage over her eyes got soaked by tears once more. Obviously the salty liquid wasn't exactly pleasant on her wounds, but she hesitated to touch her eyes again. "You really should stop crying, it's not good for the healing-process." Erik felt kind of awkward. This really seemed to be getting difficult.

"But, I ... I can't pay a doctor or medicine." "There is no need for payment. I know how to help you, but I'm no doctor. You can stay here till you are well again." This time his voice got a little bit softer and less reserved. If he didn't want to drug her most of the time he needed her trust, and he had to trust her, which was far more difficult. "Tell me your name."

She considered her situation. It was hard to think clearly, especially since her head was dizzy and she couldn't even tell all the places where she was hurting. There was no other place where she could go, nobody else who would take care of her. The people with whom she had shared a room in the past few days surely didn't even miss her. 'Run around blinded in Paris ... or stay with this stranger.' Both options were bad, but she wasn't sure if she had any choice at all.

"I'm called Noelle."

In an attempt to be friendly Erik asked: "Oh, are you actually born on Christmas, Mademoiselle?"

Her mouth twitched and matched her suddenly slightly annoyed voice: "No, I was just found at that time and the people at the orphanage choose names for abandoned bundles rather practically." Obviously this was a delicate matter to her. But just as if she saw how her benefactor did raise a curious eyebrow, her cheeks blushed because of the unfriendly tone she had used.

"Well, my name is Erik" he simply said. He could sympathize with her for the feeling of being unwanted by the own parents and he didn't care much about good manners right now. Still, he didn't intend on encouraging neither her self-pity nor her rather rude behavior, so he kept his voice neutral.

Noelle, however, got curious. "Only 'Erik', Monsieur?" She was afraid to have overstepped the invisible line of courtesy again, but the words were out anyway.

A slight smile graced his lips. 'Well then, I have no more to lose than she' Erik thought before he answered. "Yes. My bonds to my family were never strong enough so that I could accept its name."

To be continued …


	4. First steps

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Erik fled the burning opera, after he sent Christine away with Raoul. Now he wished he could win her back, but first he has to take care of Noelle, a young woman who was wounded - and it even seems blinded - by the fire he had caused.

Many thanks to TheGoddessofDeath, who did not only give me some good advice for my writing but offered to be a beta-reader, too (and noticed when I accidentally uploaded the uncorrected version).

I want to thank all my reviewers! Spikes Bint, EriksSylvia, Nico Morrison, Erik'sTrueAngel and those who told me their comments per mail. It's really a big help … I'll try my best!

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**Chapter 4 – First steps**

After their rather unusual mutual introduction Erik and Noelle seemed to be more at ease with each other. She relaxed into a large cushion and was obviously quite exhausted, while he went over to the closet with the medical equipment to collect some medicine and new bandages.

Her head felt heavy and clouded. There was not a single spot on her body that didn't seem to hurt, but she couldn't tell for sure if the nausea that began to overwhelm her was caused by the pain or the shock and disorientation. Sleep was beginning to win her back, but Noelle didn't want to give into it yet. Instead, she tried to focus on the sounds which Erik made by moving around. On one hand she didn't want to be surprised again by him and on the other hand she was curious what he was up to. 'Why did he take me in? He speaks like a gentleman, but he behaves like a man who is hiding something.' She noticed that there suddenly was no sound at all and assumed that Erik had stopped whatever he was doing or had left the room. When Noelle heard his voice to the left of her it was as if he was standing next to the bed. She realized that she hadn't noticed him approach again. Her blindness made her angry and nervous, but the soft masculine sound comforted her somehow.

"I have to demand that you don't do anything without my assistance. Just stay in bed and rest. You already cut yourself when you broke my glass-figurines, and I don't have an endless stock of clean bandages. This place is ... special ... you can't just move around here alone yet, perhaps later. If you need anything, just ask." Erik started to clean the bleeding hands while he was talking, noticing that she didn't even flinch when he touched her this time. 'She surely would run away if she saw my unmasked face now.' Her hands were rather rough and already marked by other little scars ... obviously they had known hard work. Still, they were as small and slender as Christine's hands and seemed so lost in his much larger ones.

Noelle listened closely to his words. She wasn't exactly a very trusting person, not anymore. But right at the moment she just felt too weak to flee this place and this man. 'It can't get any worse ...' she thought, considering what her life had been like till now. "I'll do what you say, Monsieur. But surely you have better things to do than take care of me. I don't want to be a burden." Although she tried to meet his mysterious behavior with equal courtesy her mind dreaded the moment when he finally would ask for some sort of payment after all.

"Don't worry, I can spare the time. There is no one else in my home and it's not very big. So just call out, I'll hear you. Sometimes I might have to leave for a short while, but I'll make sure you have everything you need then." At that moment, Ayesha discovered a loose end of a bandage and jumped for it.

Noelle let out a little startled cry when something furry brushed against her leg. "What was that!" She imagined to be kept in an old building, probably in some hidden backyard, where rats ran around and the walls and floors were instable. Surely this man was some kind of run-down doctor who lost his job because he was a drunkard or had stolen or something like that. 'I have to get out of here!' she suddenly thought feverishly.

"No need to be frightened. This is just my cat - Ayesha, another reason why you shouldn't walk around on your own." Erik noticed that his pet acted rather strange. She usually was rather shy and stayed away from other people than himself. Christine had had some special trouble with her, because the cat had seemed determined to not like her at all. Whenever the singer had tried to come near her Ayesha had hissed and sometimes even attacked her with sharp claws. Now the Siamese cat sat on the bed and eyed Noelle with curious blue eyes.

"A cat?" the woman asked while she added silently to herself: 'Well, at least a cat will keep the rats away.' Her heart began to slow down again. "Where is she? May I stroke her, Monsieur?" Since she was out of Noelle's reach at the moment, Erik gently helped her to lean forward and guided her hand towards the cat. Ayesha didn't move; she was far too proud to meet just any stranger's tempting fingers. Finally the bandaged hand touched a small wet nose and the cat jumped off the bed. Noelle made a disappointed sound and thought: 'Stupid cat - come back'. She was painfully reminded that she couldn't even get up and look for her.

After all residents of the place had finally met, Erik stood up and took another closer look at his patient. The bandages seemed striking white on her, since her skin, hair and clothes appeared rather dark. While he had been treating her injuries there had been only time to clean the wounds and nothing more. Although Erik led a life without the rules and habits of the common society, which never wanted to accept him anyway, he was used to a decent appearance of himself and others. When his mind was not busy with more pressing problems at the moment he was aware that he himself needed a bath and another change of clothes. Still, this woman looked more like she had been living on the street, rather than he just had picked her up there. Considering the few things he knew about her, this might as well be true.

During his silent observation, Noelle sat unmoving and seemed to be at a loss of words, just like he himself. "Mademoiselle ..." her head moved slowly to face him. She had been about to fall asleep again, especially since there had been no sound to concentrate on for a few minutes. "If you like, I could guide you to the bathroom. In any case, I advise that you change your dress and leave the bed for a few moments, so that I can change the sheets." Noelle blushed a little bit, but nodded silently. Her head had been either too busy or too clouded till now to think of such things, and if it were up to her, she would prefer to ignore them for some more time and just sleep.

Suddenly there was something warm around her shoulders - another blanket or a cape, she thought - and Erik helped her to get up. He led her slowly, holding one of her hands and guiding her with his other hand on her back. Obviously there was quite a lot of furniture in the room; at last it seemed to Noelle that they had to make many twists. Her outstretched hand brushed on various objects made of wood and stone, and sometimes Erik warned her before she would knock over something. 'How could I ever find my way alone in here? I don't want to depend on this man completely!' However she had to admit that her knees were far too weak to carry her far right now.

Erik held back the thick curtain which separated the small bathroom from the main-room and shoved Noelle in. Her searching hands found the washbasin and he made sure she would get along alone in here. "I got this for you and I hope it fits. I'm afraid your own clothes have been too damaged by the fire." He closed the fingers of her less injured hand around a long nightgown. Just before Erik let the curtain down again he added: "Try to keep your bandages as dry as possible and call when you're ready."

Noelle felt quite relieved when she sensed that he was gone. It was awkward to be at the mercy of a man you never had seen, especially when you wore nothing but the shreds of some underwear. Fortunately this one seemed to be a gentleman, since he allowed her this privacy to change. Of course it could be a trick, too, but she decided to take the risk. The new clothes felt comfortable on her body, but it was hard to take care of her all by herself due to the injuries and being blind.

Finally she stepped through the curtain and called: "Monsieur Erik?" To keep her balance she held on to the wall. The stone was rough and cold and reminded her of a cellar. Noelle wished she could have looked at herself or her surroundings, but she didn't dare to lift the bandages over her eyes. In fact she wouldn't have seen much anyway, since her host hadn't lit any candles in the bathroom and the mirror was covered with a cloth.

In the meantime Erik had prepared the bed again and cleared away the broken glass. Ayesha watched him from the big armchair. She had given him more or less the same unreadable look when he had prepared the bed shaped like a black swan for Christine in the lair beneath the opera house. When Noelle finally called, he guided her back and made sure she was well covered with warm blankets. He decided against morphine for now, since she seemed tired enough to sleep without it and his medicine for the burns was beginning to take effect and lessened the pain from the injuries. Before he was about to turn away her hand fell on his and Noelle whispered: "Thank you", before falling asleep.

Erik stared at his hand for some moments and then back to the woman. 'You wouldn't thank me, if you knew that I have caused this fire.' When he gathered his hand in a bitterly shaking fist to his chest he regretted the loss of her gentle touch, but at the same time it felt as if his skin had been burnt, too.

**OOO**

_Life was wonderful, as long as he held Christine in his arms and heard her angelic voice. She was singing only for him now. This made up for all the pain he had experienced in his life. She looked at him with love in her eyes and nothing else._

_Her beauty and pureness was radiating from her. He didn't need to look around to know that it was even multiplied by all the mirrors that encircled them._

_His eyes were closed, and still he could see his beloved clearly in his embrace. Then something brushed his cheek ... his deformed side. He was reluctant to open his eyes, but he must have done it anyway, because the sight in front of him changed._

_Christine held his Don Juan mask and turned away from him. He realized they were still surrounded by mirrors, but they didn't seem to show what they should ... and it felt as if they were closing on him ... _

**OOO**

Erik was used to restless sleep, but right at the moment it was annoying him more and more. He wasn't sure if it would get better if he had the chance to rest in a decent sleeping-place again - he always had been falling asleep over his work or in other rather uncomfortable places from time to time. Erik's hand was shaking when he ran it over his sweaty face and through his hair. His body really began to miss the morphine.

Tired and in quite a bad mood he went to the bed to check on Noelle. She was the reason why he hadn't allowed himself to succumb to any sedative in the past few days. The hardly inevitable fever had gotten worse and some of her injuries weren't healing as well as he had hoped. The woman hadn't been in a good condition to start with, so her body was weak and didn't have much strength to recover. Noelle needed constant care, and since she hardly had come out of her delirium after she had wake up the first time, he had to feed her and keep her in a decent clean condition, too.

This left Erik with two major problems which troubled him. First, he hardly had time to go out and look for Christine. Although his patient was asleep most of the time, he didn't dare to leave her alone for more than an hour or two. Instead he had to rely on information he bought in the darker streets of Paris. If they were reliable, Christine and Raoul were still in town, but there were rumors of a marriage - which was his second main problem right now.

'I have to stop this!' he thought bitterly and crumpled up the newspaper which he had snatched away from a street-shop this evening. There were quite a lot of plans and dreams in his mind about him and Christine, but it was difficult to realize them. He felt as if he were trapped in a cage again.

Sighing, Erik sat down next to Noelle and felt her temperature. She was still burning up from within. He had noticed that her skin had a slight bronze color, not unlike some of the gypsies he had known. Although her face was still marked by the slowly healing wounds it seemed as if she was at least of mixed heritage. Perhaps it would be more obvious once she could open again her eyes. So far he had lifted the bandages over them only when she was deep asleep. It still could be fatal if Noelle opened her eyes too soon, and he still wasn't sure if his self-made ointment was working.

Ayesha had started to curl up near the woman's feet a few days ago. Obviously she didn't mind it very much that Noelle's sleep was a bit restless. Erik had packed her up in so many blankets that she hardly could fall out of the bed anymore or move too much, and it was a nice, warm place for a cat. He had lost some of his shyness towards the woman, too - he just thought of her as his patient. But secretly Erik knew that he wouldn't have dared to wash her carefully with a damp piece of cloth or patiently feed her if she hadn't been in her feverish sleep most of the time. He always was afraid that she would wake up any moment, when he was that close to her.

To be continued …


	5. Just a little melody

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Erik fled the burning opera after he sent Christine away with Raoul. While he wished he could win her back, Erik has to get used to Noelle. Never before he had to share his living-space with somebody else, but she was injured and blinded by the fire he had caused.

TheGoddessofDeath was a great help as beta-reader again. I really should learn from my mistakes …

Erik'sTrueAngel, Angel of the day and Pisces411 … thank you for your nice reviews! I'm glad that you enjoy this story.

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**Chapter 5 – Just a little melody**

When Erik wasn't keeping an eye on Noelle, he sat at his desk and tried to write a letter to Christine. It was hard to find the right words after all that had been said and done back at the opera house. 'I have to meet her' became a constant thought in his mind. It was driving him mad, especially since he felt that time was running short for him.

Sometimes Erik walked around in his home; the eyes fixed on the paper in his hand and completely lost in his thoughts. It seemed as if something was missing, he hardly ever had been at a loss for words. His notes to the managers of the opera had always been chosen very efficient. Previous messages to Christine had enchanted her nearly as much as his voice.

"Monsieur?" He stopped in his tracks and whirled around towards Noelle. For a few moments he had completely forgotten that she was there. And now the woman was awake and didn't seem to be just talking out of another fever-dream. "Yes, Mademoiselle? Do you need anything?" In one movement he put the letter away and went to check on his patient's condition. It wasn't much better, but it seemed she had gained some strength.

"No …" she answered with a light shake of the head. Then she added: "Why are there no sounds other than those of you and Ayesha?" Noelle couldn't possibly see his astonished look, but she replied as if she did. "I often hear you walking around. Sometimes you seem to be to writing or reading something; at last I hear the rustle of paper. I don't want to appear unthankful, but … I often don't know if I'm awake or asleep … if it's day or night. There's always darkness and silence." The last words were hardly more than a whisper and she began to wrap her arms around herself as if she was cold.

Erik hardly could believe what she was saying, let alone comprehend what she wanted. He felt as if she had been spying on him, but of course this was ridiculous and even he knew that. It was very silent in here … it never had bothered him, though. The pipe-organ in the church above was hardly used, and its sound seemed distant when it reached down here. It was well possible that Noelle had been asleep on those few occasions, after all Erik hardly could tell if she was awake, when she wasn't talking or moving accordingly.

Obviously he had been silent for too long again. "Monsieur Erik? I didn't want to offend you …" She knew that he was still beside her, since the bed hadn't moved after he had come to her. Now she turned away from him.

"What do you want? It is late afternoon now. I already told you that nobody else lives in here." He couldn't completely hide his confusion. Noelle wasn't sure if she should continue, but then she remembered the times when she did call for him and he wasn't there. Of course he had kept his word and always told her when he would leave the house, but she never knew how much time had passed when she dozed off. There wasn't even a clock ticking in this utter silence and it was driving her mad. "Could you perhaps let me sit at the window? I just want to listen to _something_ … the people on the street, birds, anything. And … I wish I could catch some fresh air and feel the wind."

Noelle was aware that she was talking like a little girl and blushed, but she was desperate enough to say her thoughts aloud. Erik stared at her. 'The window?' How could he explain that there was no such thing in his home? The air came though various small channels and the passages and was good enough, but of course nothing compared to a fresh breeze. Since he got out of the refuge at last every few days he hadn't thought about how isolated it must seem to a blind person who had nothing to occupy herself with. Nevertheless this was just the way he lived. "I can't meet this request, Mademoiselle Noelle."

She visibly was disappointed and let out a sad, soft sigh. 'I guess he doesn't want anybody to see that I'm here. I'm so stupid.' Noelle hadn't told him how frightened she really was in this silent darkness, how she wished he would talk to her more often. "Please, forgive me. I won't ask for such a thing again."

Finally Erik stood again. He suddenly felt more uncomfortable next to her than ever. 'I should never have brought her here. I may have the knowledge, but I don't have the experience to take care of somebody.' Later, when he gave Noelle some supper, which she was able to eat alone for the first time, he couldn't help but notice his failure. 'This is no place for someone to heal. And I can't stay at her side like this much longer.' The woman was eating, but she obviously lacked any appetite. Her breathing was shallow and her movements unsure and slow. 'It would be better if I found another shelter for her.'

**OOO**

Later that night Erik was looking through some of his old music-sheets. He hoped they could rekindle his passion for beautiful songs, which he felt was needed if he wanted to find the right words for Christine's letter. Indeed he came upon some lines and notes that he would love to be carried by her voice, although he wrote them before he even knew her.

Suddenly a choking sound came from the bed. Alarmed he rushed over to Noelle, who seemed to be struggling for air. "What's wrong? Do you need some water?" Erik had no idea what might have caused this, surely none of her obvious injuries should have affected her breathing. A little hesitant and clumsy at first, he took her into his arms. Her still bandaged hands grabbed for him and found some hold on his shirt, which startled him. "Calm down! Try to breathe evenly!" Gently but determined, he tilted her chin upward so that her lungs might have easier access to air. He checked to see if her neck was damaged or swollen, or if he could find anything that might have gotten caught in her throat, but found nothing at all. Just when Erik considered getting up to look for any medicine that might help, Noelle let out a long sigh that nearly sounded like a sob and relaxed against his chest.

Erik couldn't move, but he wished very much to be anywhere else but here and in this situation. While he tried to understand what had happened, he noticed that he still held the woman close enough to him to feel her racing heart slow down. A part of him wanted to end the contact and let her sink back on the bed. However, another part of him remembered the rare occasions when he had held Christine close to him and enjoyed this feeling. So Erik ended up in staying exactly where and how he was, but he nearly held his breath and tensed up as if being in great danger.

Slowly Noelle became aware that she was awake - mostly because there was only darkness and in her dreams she sometimes still saw vivid pictures, usually of the fire and other haunting images of her past. But she realized that she wasn't lying down anymore, too. Her head was leaning against something soft and warm, yet her fingers were closed around some cloth different from the blankets. 'What's that sound?' A steady rhythm was pounding at her ear. "Monsieur Erik?" Noelle asked softly and was a little bit surprised how weak her voice sounded. However she didn't want to disturb him only because she had a nightmare or whatever this strange, suffocating feeling had been. Nevertheless she wondered why she was half sitting and feeling so dizzy.

"I'm here, Mademoiselle Noelle. Are you all right?" Erik had been frightened when she had held on to him like someone who was drowning. She was now equally shocked to hear his voice close to her ear and actually feel the vibration of it. Instantly, she pulled away from him, trying to cover herself with a blanket. Her mind was racing and so her voice was unsteady when she asked: "What happened!"

He was relieved when she finally let go of him, but felt the lack of warmth on his body instantly. It didn't surprise Erik how she reacted; it was the usual behavior of other people towards him. 'She probably thinks I wanted to rape her or something of the sort' he thought bitterly and stopped himself to lay a calming hand on her shoulder. Instead he pulled one of the blankets around her shivering body. "You seemed to have difficulties with breathing, Mademoiselle. I wasn't sure what had caused it, but you seem fine again now."

Noelle heard him walk away. While she calmed down, Ayesha jumped on the bed and curled up comfortable in the woman's lap. She was used to the sudden appearances of the cat by now - she should be used to the same behavior of its master, too, Noelle told herself. In some ways they were very much alike: silent, mysterious and somehow unreachable. Even if Ayesha came to her, she couldn't pet her … although she wouldn't bite or scratch her, the cat obviously didn't want to be touched or even stroked most of the time and would just run away if she tried to uninvited.

"I … I think I had a bad dream. I'm sorry …" She nearly said 'I'm sorry that I worried you', but she thought that was inappropriate. This man had saved her life and was taking care of her, but he didn't worry about her. Even his cat got more affection of this kind from him. She could tell from the way he talked to her.

Soon Erik came back to the bed and looked down at the woman. Noelle was still in a sitting position; obviously her fever had finally gotten better. Ayesha eyed him with a look full of a cat's natural arrogance and settled back to doze off. "You don't need to apologize. It seems you can't go back to sleep though. Would you like something to drink?" Noelle nodded gratefully and accepted the cup he placed in her hands. Erik made a decision.

**OOO**

"Are you feeling well enough for a little walk?" "A … walk?" She was confused. Since waking up in his presence for the first time, she hardly had been out of bed, and then only to be guided to the bathroom or some steps around to move her tired limbs. "I think it's about time, but only if you're strong enough. We would have some stairs to climb." Of course Noelle couldn't refuse this. After all she had asked for something like that. Every bit of change and distraction was welcome to her. Erik helped her to get out of bed and judged if she really was able to stand on her own legs for some time. When she didn't sway, but only waited patiently for his guidance, he dressed her in one of his warm cloaks. Her old shoes were still around, and although they were not in best shape, it was better than going barefoot.

They didn't speak until Noelle asked where he was leading her. "You asked for some fresh air, didn't you?" Then the corridors ended and the pair had to concentrate on managing the steps. At first Noelle was unsure and slow, but in time she got more used to finding the next step blindly and Erik adapted to her tempo. 'Where are we going? Up to a tower? No house has so many steps!' Just as she thought the ascent would never end, he motioned her to stop and placed her hand on the wall. It felt much like the walls in his home, she noticed: cool and somehow rough stone. Then he left her side and she felt suddenly very vulnerable. "I'll be right back, just stay there." A strange sound, like if something heavy was moved, was followed by a breeze full of new scents. Noelle couldn't really tell what it was, but it was different from the air she tasted in Erik's home. When he took her hand again they soon continued over even floor. Their steps caused a soft echo and this change in sound alone fascinated Noelle so much that she didn't even care when they started to climb another staircase.

By the time Erik made her stop again Noelle had to catch her breath. The first excitement about this walk had let her forget how ill she still was. If they didn't have had to walk slowly she would be quite sick because of the constant right-turn upwards on the spiral staircase. Erik noticed that, too, and wondered if his idea really was a good one. 'Why did I do this? If this little excursion worsens her condition again, I have to look after her even longer' he scolded himself. "We are here", was all he told Noelle before opening the door.

This time her gasp was one of delight and for the first time a smile lit up her face. "We are outside!" she exclaimed and tried to find the boundaries of this new freedom with her outstretched hands. Erik was at her side again and placed her searching fingers on the wooden railing. Noelle took some deep breaths and remained silent for a few minutes. He watched her closely, but it didn't seem as if she felt weak. Her head was tilted a bit and the smile was still gracing her lips. "It is night, right?" she asked whispering. "Yes."

Noelle felt as if she had been reborn. She hadn't known how much she had missed fresh air and a breeze in her hair till now. It was cold, but she was more used to chilly nights than to be kept inside for days, hardly able to get out of bed. However, she had been aware that the missing noises had made her nervous, and so she eagerly took in every bit of sound that would come to her ears now: distant steps and voices, flapping birds, the whistling of the wind around her and in some trees that must have been nearby. "Are there stars? Or is the moon out?" Even her voice sounded somehow different here. "No, it's cloudy, Mademoiselle." "Where are we?" She didn't really care if he told her, or if he told her the truth. But Noelle was afraid he would lead her away too soon, if she didn't fill the time somehow. It already was evident that they had to be on some tower or on a balcony on the roof of a high building. It wasn't important, she couldn't go anywhere without his help anyway.

"Why do you have to ask so many questions?" Erik got a little angry, because he didn't dare to tell her anything. Someday she would be on her own again and might tell somebody where to find him. "I won't ask again, Monsieur. I'm very happy that you brought me out here." She bowed her head thankfully in his direction. Erik looked around from the church-tower. Fortunately it really was a rather dark night so that nobody would spot the two figures beneath the old bell. The view was quite nice, since they were high above of a large part of the district. The roofs were quite shabby like most of this area of Paris, but it wasn't too evident in this moonless night. When he had lived here the first time, he rarely had come up here and never during the day. Nevertheless, this seemed to be exactly what Noelle had needed so badly.

After a while Erik told her: "We should leave now. You had a hard night and still need your rest." If this had been the roof of the opera house he would have stayed longer. There had been enough secret passages that helped him to hide, but here he had to go through the main-room of the church and that made him uneasy. After a second, Noelle turned and felt her way along the railing to the door. The cool air had lit up her spirits, but she knew they would have to go all those endless staircases back down. "Thank you very much, Monsieur Erik …" Just when he was about to take her arm she spun around and 'stared' at him - he froze and waited for the horrified scream that surely would come.

"What's that? It sounds like music ..." Of course Noelle wasn't looking at him, she probably didn't even know that he was so close to her right now. When Erik released his breath he heard the sound, too. Somewhere, perhaps in one of the houses next to the church, a violin was playing a tune. It had been one of the first instruments he had mastered and even from this distance he noticed the flaws. "I hardly would call that music. Somebody is torturing the violin with his incompetence and raping the melody." Even if he hadn't felt the urge to create or play music himself since Christine had left him, he still had the love for it in him.

Noelle was quite surprised by this statement. She had noticed that her benefactor had a very pleasant voice when she first had heard it. There even was some kind of melodic rhythm in it when he spoke, but she never had considered that Erik actually was an expert in music. On the other hand, she certainly wasn't one, so how could she tell the difference? "It sounds nice. I haven't heard much music, besides from some fiddlers on the street. Couldn't we stay and listen a while longer, Monsieur Erik?"

With a sour look on his face he crossed the arms in front of his chest. After the violinist had tormented him a few more times, Erik had to show his opinion in a way that Noelle would notice: he made sound that was a mixture of snorting and growling. "I can't stand this amateur any longer. I'm leaving." And he did.

Although she heard how the wooden door was opened and that Erik descended the stairs she couldn't believe it at first. 'He really left me here alone. Was it only because he didn't like this music?' Noelle wasn't sure if she should stay. She could listen to the melody and the sounds of the nightly town ... and perhaps he would return. But he had acted strangely, and so he might really not come back. No matter how hard she listened she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, only the violin ... and even she noticed now that the melody wasn't played properly. With a mixture of anger and fear she reached out and felt for the doorway.

It was the first time that she had to get along without his help since she got blinded, but since Noelle knew the stairs would start immediately behind the door she was careful. Slowly and very concentrated she let her foot find the rim of the step before placing it on the next one. There was no railing, so she held her balance by placing her hands on the walls. They had a different, smoother texture than the ones in Erik's home. It was narrow enough here that she could easily reach them to both sides of her. She had no idea how many steps there had been, so Noelle stumbled a little bit when she finally reached the bottom. The sweat on her forehead wasn't from the fever this time.

"So, you already have had enough of the squeaking?" Erik's voice startled her and he noticed that, although she tried to hide her surprise. She hadn't been sure if he would wait for her. "Yes. And it was getting cold." He grinned, but his voice didn't give away that he hadn't expected her to come down alone. "Why didn't you call? I would have helped you." He eyed her curiously, his back leaning on the wall next to the entry to the tower. Noelle hardly could believe that it seemed as if he was scolding her for being careless. "I didn't want to trouble you, Monsieur. After all there hardly was a chance that I would knock over something on that staircase." She remembered all to well what chaos she had caused in the first hours at his home and was a quite embarrassed by it. But she was stubborn enough that she didn't want to rely on somebody else if it wasn't necessary.

Erik actually was somewhat impressed that Noelle wasn't complaining. After all he _had_ left her alone up there, but she even tried to imply that she didn't need his help. Of course both knew it wasn't so, after all she had no clue how to find back to his home from here.

On their way back, Erik was acting as the guide again, he started unconsciously to hum the melody they had listened to. Noelle smiled at it, because she could hear the difference immediately and the sound was somehow soothing. He didn't notice it. In fact he was at first a bit confused when she said: "You were right. The violin didn't play it very well. Are you a musician, Monsieur Erik?" Only then he realized that the melody had haunted him. "I am many things, Mademoiselle Noelle. But yes, I have some knowledge about music, too."

The woman fell asleep as soon as she was beneath the warm blankets again. No bad dreams attacked her this time. However, Noelle wasn't sure if she was awake when she heard a violin play the melody some time later. It wasn't distant, but sounded clear and vivid as if the source was in the same room. Furthermore it was far better than the first time and she let herself be carried away on the waves of the music.

**OOO**

It was about dawn when Erik finally was satisfied with his letter to Christine and sealed it with red wax. He remembered the time when he used a skull to form his seal, but even if he hadn't left it in his old lair he wouldn't have used it anymore. The opera was gone and so was its phantom. Instead he found the form of a rose, which seemed far more appropriate for a letter to his beloved. He didn't want to threaten her; she would come to him out of her own free will.

With a loving touch, he caressed the elegant form of his violin, apologizing for not using it so long. Erik didn't bother to tell Noelle he would be going out this time. She seemed to sleep and after the rather tiring night she should remain so for a while. So he just covered himself with his wide hooded cape and left. It was risky to leave his refuge now, but the streets would be still empty enough. Erik just couldn't wait any longer to deliver his letter to Christine.

To be continued …


	6. On their own Part I

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Erik regrets that he sent Christine away with Raoul and forms plans to win her back. So he tries to overcome his ruthlessness and takes care of Noelle, who was blinded by the fire at the opera. But this is no easy task for someone like the desperate Phantom.

Many thanks to my beta-reader Lotte Isilya, who had been quiet for a while, but helped cleaning up this chapter. And TheGoddessofDeath was so kind to correct some more mistakes that I still had in it.

Erik'sTrueAngel and TheGoddessofDeath … I'm sorry that this chapter doesn't reveal more about the letter yet.

RyuDracones … I think my story doesn't have much reviews, because most phans prefer EC-stories, but that's ok. Like this I'm even happier about every single one I get. And I like to get some good advice from reviews like yours.

LoneWolf2005 … I'm glad that you like 'my' Erik and how I set up the relation between him and the two women. I hope you'll review again, so that I can find your own phanfiction through your registered name.

Spikes Bint … well, I hope my telling about Noelle's blindness still isn't becoming boring. I try my best!

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**Chapter 6 – On their own (Part I)**

Erik glided from shadowed corners to abandoned back yards. His nerves were on edge, because he was without his mask and he lacked sleep. At last the thick curtain of cold rain which was pouring down from the gray sky gave him some cover. It wasn't only blurring the view, but he had a good excuse to bury his face deep in the hood to hide his deformity.

Due to the weather there were even less people on the streets than usual at this early hour, and that was quite good for the plans of the former Opera Ghost. Erik had recently gained the knowledge of where Christine was living at the moment, but he had not dared to go there right away. In this moment he stood in a narrow alley opposite of the big building. It had been the mansion of some nobleman, but since his heirs had not had any intentions to live in Paris they had rebuilt it into a few exclusive apartments.

Erik's mood darkened. He could imagine all too well who had arranged that Christine and the two Giry women would find lodging here. 'This Vicomte thinks he can buy everything with his noble name and his family's money. But he owns nothing but his pretty face. I can build you a palace with my own hands, but I know your soul needs more than that.' With a determined look on his face the man headed towards the back of the building.

**OOO**

It was as silent as a grave. Noelle could hear the sound of her bandaged hands moving over the blanket as if it was as loud as a storm, although she knew it was nothing more than a whisper. "Monsieur Erik?" Her voice was unsure; she had tried in vain to call him several times already. The blind woman wasn't sure for how long she had listened into the silence for any sign of him. Perhaps five minutes, perhaps five hours.

Noelle resisted the urge to clutch at the sheets; she bit her lip to keep herself from shaking. 'Is he watching me? Has he gone out?' She expected to hear his voice - or any other sound - every second, but at the same time she was so tense that she would jump at the slightest noise. Part of her wished to crawl beneath the blanket and wait to wake up from this sightless nightmare.

'I don't want to appear helpless and frightened' she thought as she tried to calm down. If Erik was around she definitely would not show him this weakness. "Ayesha? Are you here?" Noelle leaned forward and groped around carefully with her hands. To look for the cat was a better excuse than asking for help. There was the rim of the bed ... the opposite side ... the foot of it. Obviously it was empty but for herself. 'I wish I had some sixth sense that would tell me if somebody was near or anything like that ...' This foolish idea was a reminder of her childhood, when she had wished for good fairies to help her and such things.

For the first time in days she didn't feel weak or dizzy. The injuries still hurt, especially when she moved too carelessly, but it was bearable. Her wounded eyes were causing a constant headache though. For a few moments Noelle considered removing the bandages from her head and her fingers studied the cloth there. 'He said I might see again if the eyes can heal. He might have lied to me to keep me blindfolded ... but it also might be the truth.' She still couldn't notice any sign of Erik in the room, heard no warning that she should leave the bandages alone. Tears of fear and despair began to sting in the wounded eyes. 'How shall I live on being blind!'

**OOO**

Erik contemplated entering the building through a cellar-door. It would have been no problem for him to pick the lock, if it was sealed at all. But he would have to move around in a house that was unknown to him, servants might be awake already, and his wet cape might leave treacherous tracks.

So he chose to climb up the gutter, which seemed solid enough to hold his weight. In all those years on various building sites and later in the opera house he had gained very good climbing skills and amazing balance. Only few men could have stood and even a smaller number could have moved on the narrow ledge over the first row of windows like he did. That was probably why the caretakers of this house didn't care that the fire escape ladder was pulled up only till this height and offered now a rather easy access for him to the upper floors.

The man from whom he had bought Christine's current address had been a coachman who frequently worked in this part of town. For an additional fee he had told Erik where he had carried the luggage of the three women, who fit his description of the ones he was looking for. The apartment beneath the roof on the south side of the house was his goal now.

While there had been some sounds and even some rays of light behind the shutters on the ground floor, everything was still silent and dark in the higher levels of the house. It was still raining and Erik was once more grateful that he had pulled on his gloves before leaving. He never would have been able to climb up here without them, and his fingers surely would have been too numb to open one of the roof-windows, just as his whole body was freezing right now.

The attic was dark, damp and stuffy, but at last there was no cold wind and no rain. In fact the man who had haunted the opera house felt quite at home here. After removing his wet cape, he explored the vast room slowly and carefully. The house was well built, but Erik didn't want to draw attention to him because of some creaking beams. He wanted to catch any sound that might drift up to him.

A soft humming stopped him. For a few seconds he didn't breathe and hid behind one of the larger joists, his Punjab lasso ready to strike. Then a knowing small smile crept on his face and he relaxed again. The sound didn't come near him like from a servant who was going to fetch something from the attic ... it floated to him from the floor, and he recognized the tune.

'So, my dear Madame Giry ... you are up early, as usual. I guess Christine is in good care with you. I bet it was your doing that this arrogant Vicomte didn't take her with him instantly. After all, this would have been highly inappropriate for his and her reputation.' Erik considered using Madame Giry again as an intermediary to Christine, but he hesitated. _Someone_ had shown Raoul the way down to his lair, and only few people had known how to get there, not all were still alive. He owed the ballet-mistress enough that he was reluctant to throw away his trust in her without a proof, but she might have changed her attitude about his relationship with Christine. Sometimes she could be just too protective and alert when her girls were involved.

Since he had studied architecture nearly as passionate as music, Erik could judge pretty well how the apartment beneath him was structured. There were hints everywhere for the educated eye ... how the building had looked from outside, where certain joists were placed, the preferences of noble families … and the chimneys of the fireplaces. The one that most likely was connected to Christine's bedroom was warm. When he touched it, he nearly could sense a connection to his beloved.

After Erik was sure that Madame Giry was busy in a different room, he opened the nearest roof-window to Christine's room. He was lucky that it was still rather dark with rain outside and it wasn't very likely that somebody would look so high up in this weather. Furthermore the room obviously faced to a side street. The building on the opposite side was under construction right now and seemed deserted at the moment, so Erik decided it was safe enough to climb out of the window. With the agility of an acrobat he got down to a narrow balcony, which was more for decoration than for enjoying the view. However, it was strong enough to hold his weight and it granted him a sight that made his heart beat harder than any risk he had taken on his way here.

**OOO**

Again Noelle had no idea how much time had passed since her last panic-attack. At some point she had decided to not make herself crazy. One of the stable hands in a place she once had worked for a few weeks had been nearly blind of age, but he had been getting along somehow. And after all there was still a chance that her eyes would heal, if Erik told the truth. He hadn't taken advantage of her till now or treated her bad, quite the contrary even. 'I won't give up so easily ... I'll find a way to go on!' she swore to herself.

"Monsieur Erik ... could I have some water, please?" her voice shivered a bit, because part of her still believed that he was watching her silently. But there was no answer and no sign of living company at all. So Noelle started to feel around the rim of the bed till she found the nightstand. She dimly remembered that Erik seemed to have placed stuff on something next to the bed from time to time, and she had guessed there must be something like this around.

Indeed her fingers soon felt the cool, smooth surface of a cup. There were two larger forms next to it: one seemed to be a jug, but she couldn't quite picture what the other one might be. While her featherlike touches tried to explore the unknown object she found a book on the little table. So she guessed Erik might have some kind of lamp there.

Before she tried to take a sip out of the cup, Noelle was careful enough to sniff at its content first. It smelled like the tea he had given her occasionally and so she eagerly gulped the last few swallows that had remained in the cup. Since she still was thirsty she tried to bring the jug in the position to refill the cup. Her hands were shaking a little and so Noelle felt some of the fluid run over her fingers at the first try. After getting a better hold on the jug's handle she was more successful. But since she didn't notice when the cup was full she spilled some more tea and heard it dripping from the nightstand on the floor. 'I guess he will scold me for that. What if I spoiled the book?' The young woman had worked for enough masters who would even beat her for such a fault, but she hoped Erik wouldn't be so harsh on her.

The complete lack of any reaction or help with the tea convinced Noelle that she really had to be alone at the moment. For a few moments this caused another wave of panic in her. 'What if something happens!' She couldn't really think straight enough then to imagine something concrete, but it frightened her nevertheless. This fear of helplessness and the determination not to give in to it made her get out of bed. Part of her wanted to flee this place or find somebody, part of her was just sick of being so unknowing and literally blind to her surroundings.

The lack of sight still influenced her balance and she had to grab for something to hold on. Since Noelle knew she was facing the bed at the moment, she guessed that she braced herself against the headboard of it right now. It seemed to be carved with some elaborate ornaments. 'Perhaps I can try to feel the look of it later' she thought as curiosity welled up. When her other hand tried to find the rim of it, she realized that there was some thick, soft cloth on the wall behind it. At first she thought it had to be the curtain of a window, but it didn't take long till she was sure there was only solid stone behind it. With a mixture of disappointment and confusion she moved on.

Noelle's first steps alone out of the bed lead her to the throne-like armchair. It was more or less a few steps opposite to the bed's foot, as she remembered from the few times Erik had guided her there. When she felt carvings on this furniture, too, she wondered if they would match those on the bed. 'Where to now?' "Ayesha? Monsieur Erik?" She didn't really expect an answer, but was even a little bit relieved when the room remained silent again. 'What would he think, if he saw me walking around like this?'

She remembered the direction from where the noises came whenever Erik was preparing food or medicine. Slowly her hands tried to find the wall and her feet shuffled forward. Noelle was grateful that most of the floor seemed to be covered with carpets, because she had no idea where her shoes might be. Since it took a lot of concentration to memorize her route and whatever furniture she discovered, this trip became nearly as exhausting as the many steps of the tower last night. 'Was it last night?' The woman wondered again how many time had passed.

When her fingers found a seemingly large shelf she stopped for a while and tried to find out what was stored in it. There were all sorts of bottles and boxes, sheets of paper, books and other rather common stuff for which she hardly had any use now. But she also touched some items with a strange texture or shape in all sizes, which she just couldn't recognize. Although Noelle was cautious at first, she started to knock over some pieces after a time. 'Please, don't let it be damaged!' She thought and tried to place them where they had been.

**OOO**

The shutters of the big windows hadn't been closed and the expensive curtains were drawn apart just enough to grant a look inside the room. The steady warm glow of the fireplace bathed everything in a dim light. It seemed as if its inhabitants didn't want to be left in darkness.

For far longer than was safe for him, Erik stood on the narrow balcony and watched Christine's sleeping form. He couldn't move, but right now he didn't want to be anywhere else. He hardly could breathe, but he felt as if he would die happy if his time would come now; he had found his angel again.

Some noise on the street below woke him from the trance. If he hadn't been trained by his hard life to always be alert, he would have been startled so much that he might have lost his balance or made a treacherous sound. Now he just reached out and opened the window slowly with knowing, skilled fingers and stepped inside.

Christine seemed to unconsciously respond to his presence, for the strained look on her face softened and a soft sigh escaped her lips. But perhaps it was just a reaction to the breeze of fresh air that came in with him. Meg, who slept in the same bed, but with her back to the window, didn't move at all or show any other signs of perceiving the visitor. The man just stood there. A small pool of water gathered beneath his feet, as he was soaked with cold rain. The subdued light masked his deformed features a bit.

It was hard for Erik not to just close the distance between him and his angel, but he didn't dare it. Meg was here, Madame Giry in another room nearby. Part of him knew he was in great danger here to be discovered, yet he didn't want to leave. His trembling fingers reached out and caressed Christine's face from afar. Tears began to sting in his eyes when he nearly could feel her warmth, although he touched nothing but empty air.

A movement to his right, nearly out of his range of vision, caught his attention. As if he had been stricken by a hard blow he staggered a step backwards and a low moan of misery emerged his throat. The secret visitor had been discovered by his own dreadful mirror-image, and vice-versa.

Erik averted his eyes when he went near the dressing table. He couldn't bear to watch himself unmasked, especially not while such beauty lay unaware just a few steps away, sleeping innocently. So he placed the sealed envelope next to a hairbrush. And of course he hadn't forgotten to bring a single blood-red rose, too, decorated with a black ribbon.

To be continued …


	7. On their own Part II

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: ... see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Erik finally found a chance to get near Christine again. He had not seen her since the fire at the opera house, but now he had left her a message. Meanwhile Noelle found herself seemingly alone in the home of her strange savior. Although her blindness was frightening her, she tried to not give up and explored her surroundings.

Sorry for the long wait … TheGoddessofDeath told me there are no big mistakes in this one, so I'll just share it with you. Perhaps my writing is finally getting a bit better? You have to tell me ;)

the.ingenue, Erik'sTrueAngel, Mariah, LoneWolf2005 and SnowGirl7 … thank you very much for your reviews. I'm happy that you like my story and Noelle. I hope you enjoy this chapter, too.

Sbkar, it's great that you joined „Blind Mask" and even gave me some hints for improvement of the previous chapters. I liked that you shared your thoughts about the story.

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**Chapter 7 – On their own (Part II)**

The big shelf full with strange things became uninteresting after a while. It was not only because Noelle couldn't see and so in most cases wasn't able to identify the objects, but because she grew hungry, too. It was the fierce appetite that a sick person suffers whose condition is finally getting better.

"Where is that kitchen? It has to be near ... I always could hear and smell it when he was preparing something." Noelle didn't care any longer if Erik was watching her. If he was amusing himself with her blind exploration of his home, she couldn't disgrace herself any more by muttering to herself.

With one hand still on the shelf, the woman reached out with the other one to learn more about her surroundings. There seemed to be a gap in the wall, but she couldn't think of where it might lead. It was neither covered by a curtain like the bathroom, nor was there a door. However, Noelle could find the next wall, so she decided to pass this opening for now, and walked forwards carefully.

At first she was a bit confused, because in this part of the room - if she hadn't accidentally went through an open door into another one by now - was nothing but strange things that hanged from the ceiling. They were nearly out of her reach, so she couldn't even guess what they were, although it didn't feel like cobwebs or curtains. Then she stumbled over some unknown objects on the floor – most of them gave way at her bare feet - till her hands finally found a table. It was covered with so much stuff that seemed useless to her at the moment, so Noelle didn't even try to examine it. She was now nearly frustrated enough to shove all those things down with an angry cry.

'This is ridiculous. I'll never be able to get along on my own.' Tears of despair were about to spill again, but a dull noise let Noelle's heart nearly stop and she held her breath. It had sounded as if something not too big but heavy had fallen over. Or like a soft knock. As far as she knew, it could have been a closing door or a step from someone in the room or a number of other things her suddenly frightened mind couldn't even picture.

**OOO**

As soon as Erik was back in the attic he sat down in a corner and tried to calm down. He was more in the mood of walking around like a caged tiger, but he was afraid this would draw attention on him and his hiding place. Nevertheless that was exactly how he felt like: being trapped. Even if it still was raining, the day was too bright by now and he didn't dare to leave the building anymore.

The eyes of the man were used to dark surroundings, and so he soon discovered something interesting to distract him from his current situation. There seemed to be openings in the floor that were covered with bars, probably to provide ventilation in the rooms beneath. Ever curious, Erik slowly crept to a certain one of those openings and glanced through it. As he had hoped he saw Christine's bedroom. Furthermore, the object which had caused him pain not long ago was helping him now. The mirror was in the narrow corridor of his view, and so it acted as a window into the room for him.

Just when the sounds of daily life outside got louder, Madame Giry came to wake Meg and Christine. Erik was reminded of the many times he had spied on his angel and other persons in the opera house. Hardly ever he had stayed to watch the reactions to his notes or deeds; usually he was sure enough that they would have the intended effect. Curious and nervous he waited now that this letter would be found.

"Christine, my dear, you have to get up. You'll get ill if you stay inside all the time." Madame Giry sounded worried. There was no answer. "Christine?" That was Meg's voice and she seemed to share her mother's concern. Erik tried to get a better look, but his possibilities were limited and didn't include the bed.

"I won't let this happen, not as long as you are under my care." The authority of the ballet-mistress even impressed the former Opera Ghost, and obviously not only him. "I'm sorry. It's just ... since that night ... I'm so confused and everything seems so unreal to me." Now Meg came into view, dressed in a light-blue dressing gown. She opened the curtains and let some more light in. Suddenly she gasped. "What's that!" The girl had discovered Erik's letter and her trembling hand stopped before touching the rose.

"No! It can't be! Can it? Madame Giry!" Christine sounded frightened and happy at the same time, hysterical would say some people. "Be careful, my dear." The older woman in the black dress went over to the mirror. She looked at it with her head in an odd angle, because that way she sometimes had been able to discover the hidden doors of the Phantom. But of course this was ridiculous in this building. Still, her eyes scanned the room to find any sign of him, and so the remains of the wet traces he had left didn't escape her.

In the meantime Christine had gotten out of bed and approached the dressing table, slowly as if it was a menacing beast. Erik wanted to reach out to her. You still could see a dancer's grace in her, but she moved like someone in a trance. Madame Giry didn't say a word about her discovery and that she was fairly sure how this letter had gotten in here. Instead she handed it and the rose to the girl who was like a daughter to her.

The hidden man let out a soft moan when Christine caressed the blood-red flower with a tenderness that wouldn't even stir a feather. She had touched him like this once, and he could still feel it. Luckily none of the women he was watching seemed to notice the sound from above.

The rose was real, and so was the letter. The rich, sweet smell of this meaningful gift made Christine dizzy, but this could have been caused by her excitement, too. It was difficult to open the sealed envelope with her trembling fingers. But neither Madame Giry nor Meg moved to help her or asked her to sit down. The elder one was sure that Christine wouldn't listen to her anyway now, and the other was still too shocked that there obviously had been a secret visitor this night.

After reading the words - written in with all too familiar, gracefully curved letters - over and over Christine sank to the ground, heavy sobs rocking her body. She clutched the paper close to her heart with both hands; the rose had fallen down next to her. In a second Meg was beside her and tried to soothe her.

"Christine, what does the letter say?" Madame Giry usually never would ask for the content of a personal message, but the words of the Phantom often affected more than the addressee. "He's alive! Thank god! But ... oh, I'm so afraid what might happen now!" With that desperate cry she pressed the note into the hand of Madame Giry and succumbed herself to the embrace of her closest friend.

Erik didn't care if he might be discovered in that moment, but hurried away from the opening. He had to suppress his own sobs and his feelings were as mixed as those of the woman he loved with all his heart.

**OOO**

Noelle's headache got worse while she listened for any sound. There had been none since that dull noise. On the other hand her heart seemed to pound so loud that she wasn't sure if she would hear anything less than thunder anyway. Suddenly a crystal clear "meow" in front of her feet made her jump in surprise and she cried out.

"You damn cat! Why do you have to sneak up on me like that! You're worse than Erik!" Noelle was panting, because she had held her breath and had now released it into this angry grumbling. She felt scared enough to say more, but she was afraid that the man might have come back together with the cat. "Ehm, ... I'm sorry. I didn't want to insult you." No sound and no reaction, Noelle grew weary of it. "Monsieur Erik?"

Slowly she went down on her knees and tried to find the pet with her hands. "Ayesha, is your master with you? You know, he could give both of us some food." The answer was an eager meow right into the woman's face. It was followed by the feeling that the cat circled around her. Occasionally she rubbed her head on Noelle's legs or hands.

Ayesha had heard the magical word that promised something nice to eat. This would suit her well, since she had not found much in the tunnels today, and it was far too wet for her taste outside to go there. Surely this woman would give her some food, just like the man did when she urged him to. At first the cat had been a bit annoyed that Erik shared their home again with another human, but somehow this one seemed less troublesome like the first.

"What is it? Usually you aren't so affectionate." Any companion and distraction was welcome to Noelle, and if Erik's moody pet suddenly decided to be friendlier she welcomed it. But the cat wouldn't stand still to be stroked, she just kept meowing. "You want something, don't you? I'm afraid I can't help you. Are you hungry? I'm hungry, too. But unless you show me where to find something to eat or drink, we will have to wait for your master."

There was another sound-pattern that Ayesha understood. Yes, of course she was hungry. What was wrong with this woman? Nearly every human would already have given her something to eat by now. The rest would have chased the cat away long ago, but Ayesha was well aware that this woman liked her. Well, some humans were rather stupid; perhaps this one really didn't know what exactly she wanted. The cat was determined to show Noelle what she expected from her.

Suddenly Ayesha was gone, but she made some noises and kept meowing while she jumped up somewhere. It was probably some kind of wooden cupboard, because there the cat began to scratch on something. Noelle followed her ears and found the pet again at last. She had to use mainly her nose to find out what was stored inside the cupboard.

"Hey, those are my fingers! Be careful!" Ayesha had lost her patience and fetched herself the first thing that was obviously to her liking. Noelle just had time enough to catch the smell of sausage, before she lost the grip on the small package - the cat had surprised her with sharp claws. Nevertheless the hungry woman didn't give up her exploration of this storage till she found some bread and another package with sausage. In one box she discovered something that stank so repulsive that she wasn't sure if it was something ruined or a cheese. She decided not to temper her luck.

**OOO**

Erik spent some of the most horrible hours of his life in the attic. His mind wouldn't stop to ponder about Christine's reaction to the letter, yet he didn't dare to go spying on her again. At some point he realized how miserable he felt and grabbed his discarded cape to wrap himself in it. The cloth was still damp as the rest of his garments, but he knew that his shivering didn't come alone from being cold.

Without being occupied with anything but staring into the dark room and with only his even darker thought as companion, Erik felt the weight of the last days on him again. He had lost track of time as well as he couldn't tell how often his emotions had gone through unimaginable ups and downs. Never before had he felt so intense hatred, satisfaction, betrayal, fear and love in such a short time before. Especially the last emotion tore at his heart since he had met Christine for the first time.

Erik had to admit that this whole situation and the last few tiring days had been too much for him to bear without the soothing effect of morphine. He had grown used to have it at hand in times like these. Now he was trapped, Christine was so near but yet too far away to reach and he felt exhausted and beaten up. The lack of his favorite sedative wouldn't let him sleep, but made him suffer the pain in his heart, mind and his whole body even more. On the other hand Erik knew that it would be far too dangerous to succumb to the deep slumber of the drug now, since he might not notice soon enough when somebody entered the room.

From time to time he heard voices from the apartment, but he didn't want more pain right at the moment, so he didn't listen close enough to make out words. Later it seemed as if the three women left, or at last it was silent beneath him for a long time. Unfortunately this gave him an even better opportunity to feel his growing hunger in addition to his general withdrawal symptoms.

"Oh no, what have I done?" Erik's voice was rough when he moaned those words. Until now he had not spent a single thought on Noelle. 'What will happen if she wakes up? I hope she'll be alright on her own till I can come back.' He paused a moment, then he ran a slightly shaking hand through his hair. 'No, of course she won't be alright. She's blind and doesn't know how to get around on her own. I'm sure she'll make something stupid again. And I was a fool to leave that girl alone like this. She still depends on me.' A little part of him cursed Christine and that she had again managed to let him act without thinking.

When Erik couldn't bear any longer to sit still, he began to walk around. Occasionally he stopped at a window and looked at the sky. There were still grey clouds dimming the sun, but it was brighter than the man had gotten used to in the last years.

It didn't take long to find out that there was nothing interesting stored in this attic. The lack of morphine, food and sleep and the knowledge of being trapped here by the daylight made him feel wretched. So Erik tried to distract himself by planning his further moves on Christine. But this always brought back her shocked and somehow painful reaction to his letter, which made his heart go tense. That was why he finally set his thoughts on his other problem: Noelle.

'She's a strange woman. I usually had to put Christine under the spell of my voice to trust me like this, even before she saw my face. But Noelle is rather strong willed, too, at the same moment. She might get along even if she stays blind, but I will find a place for her where she is looked after. And that happens better sooner than later." He stopped walking and looked at his temporary prison. 'It's obvious that I can't take care of anybody, especially not as long I have to sort things out with Christine. Even if Noelle seems to be tougher than her, she most likely will be half crazy when I come back. I only hope that she doesn't try to take off any of the bandages. Another infection is the last thing we need now.'

Erik was so caught up in his thoughts that he heard the approaching footsteps only seconds before the door to the loft was opened. The cape flapped behind him when he hurried to hide behind some wooden boxes, which were nearly piled up to the ceiling. Instinctively Erik covered his disfigured cheek with one hand. A chambermaid came in and began to whistle a happy tune. She was sturdy and carried a big basket full of laundry. Unaware of the man who was glaring at her dangerously - a deadly Punjab lasso ready in his hand - she began to fill the washing line in the back of the room.

When she was done she sat down on a rolled up carpet and rummaged for something in the pockets of her apron. "Ah, there it is. I was afraid that I had lost it." The woman had produced a roll and a croissant. The food looked as if it originally had belonged to one of the rich apartment-owners breakfast-trays. She took some happy bites and obviously enjoyed the taste of it. Erik eyed this with some longing, but was somehow amused, too.

Suddenly the woman stood up and went towards the corner where Erik was hiding. He was a bit startled by this, because he had been absolutely silent and immobile. 'Go away!' he thought and melted deeper into the shadows. He wouldn't risk being discovered now. He wouldn't give her the chance to scream at his sight so that the whole house would be alarmed.

For a few seconds the man didn't feel anything but cold determination to protect his secret by all means. The world had hurt him enough when he had been too helpless or scared to fight back or protect himself. He had learned to be ruthless because of that. It had cost human lives; the one of Joseph Buquet had been only one of the last. He even had destroyed his beloved opera house in the cold-bloodedness that had become so naturally to him.

'No!' Erik nearly screamed the word as the memory of Noelle came back to him and why he had taken her in. 'I have to end this killing. Christine was right ... my face is just a mirror to my twisted inside.' For that moment he didn't think of the fact that he had been born with the disfigurement, but tried to suppress the urge to harm the chambermaid who was threatening near now.

With relief he noticed that she wasn't approaching him directly, but the window near him. She also kept her back to him, while she climbed on top of a little box, so that she could lean out better of the now opened window. The fresh, chill air which came in cooled the sweat on Erik's forehead.

As much as he didn't dare to move and hardly breathed he didn't know what she was up to. Not until he heard cooing noises and the sound of bird-wings. The window was small and her body nearly hid all of it from his view, but it was obvious that she was feeding some doves.

Fortunately the birds were fast with their meal. The woman never knew how close she was to death in those moments. Erik had to remind himself constantly to not move, or his instincts would have gotten the better of him. After the woman finally had left the attic he just sat down in the very same corner and tried to breathe normally again. The hand which he had used as mask felt numb and the arm hurt from being held unsmilingly in that position for too long. His senses stayed alert from then on and he loosened the grip on the Punjab lasso only when he was sure that his hand wouldn't shake anymore. It was far more difficult to hold back than to kill.

**OOO**

The bits of food had barely satisfied Noelle's hunger, not after she had gotten used to the regular meals that Erik had provided her in the last days. 'I have gotten spoiled' she thought with a small and somehow bitter laugh. Ayesha on the other hand seemed to be content with her share and didn't ask for more. Indeed the cat hadn't made any noise since she had obviously licked her paws. That left the woman alone in the silence and an unfamiliar room again. Furthermore Noelle had to admit that she had lost her orientation. She wasn't sure in which direction the bed was or how she had gotten here.

It took some moments till she could muster the courage to let go of the relative safety of the cupboard, but then she was on her way towards where she hoped was the wall with the big shelf. She had seen how blind people explored their surroundings with a cane and wished very much she had something like that, too. When Noelle's foot met an obstacle, but her hands did not, she was a little bit confused. 'There are stairs!' she suddenly realized, and wondered where they might lead.

It seemed as if there was no railing or wall nearby, so she lowered herself to her knees. On all fours Noelle examined the stairs now. To her surprise they were very wide and already at an end after a few steps. Curious the blind woman got to her feet again and staggered forward. Since she had no idea where she was heading now, after all Erik had never led her over such stairs in his home, she was even more disorientated than before. Suddenly her hip bumped into something and a strange humming sound emerged from it. Noelle was so startled that she let out a short cry and ran a few steps away from the thing. She was stopped when her knees met something less solid than the last obstacle, while her upper body lost its balance. Luckily she caught herself with her outstretched arms; her hands touching something soft. An annoyed hiss was next to her head and she felt a furry tail on her cheek.

"Ayesha! There you are!" Noelle tried to calm down and soon discovered that she had found a couch. Ayesha had settled down here after her meal and wasn't happy to be disturbed by the woman, but the cat didn't leave nevertheless. 'Where am I now? In the living room? I don't think that I passed through a door.' When this new riddle made her head buzz even more, her thoughts were interrupted by a lavish yawn. It was very comfortable to sit on the couch ... very inviting.

The furniture had a covering that felt strange but soft under Noelle's touch. 'What kind of fabric is that?' She began to picture an expensive couch in a light-flooded salon; just like in a fairy tale an old woman had told her when she had been a child. She had sold flowers in the streets. The little girl Noelle once had been had imagined that such a wonderful place had to be filled and decorated with countless colorful flowers. Now the grown woman dared to sniff at the air with some last fantasy-filled hope. 'No flowers here, it seems. Only the same slightly musty, cold air as usual.' That wasn't entirely true. Noelle began to notice the smell of Ayesha and there was something else which she couldn't name. But even if she slowly began to perceive more with her remaining senses, there hardly was much in here that could compare to her foolish dreams of her childhood.

A sigh escaped her involuntary and the young woman was a little startled by its faint echo. Then Noelle relaxed into the richly cushioned back of the couch. 'I don't know why, but I feel safer here than anywhere else I've been. May God look after me so that this carelessness won't bring me into trouble.' She didn't pray very often, after all God hadn't shown her much mercy in her life so far. Nevertheless religion had been an essential part of her upbringing. No matter how her future may look like, Noelle knew she always would be grateful to Erik, who had rescued her from those horrible flames and taken her into his care. 'I will thank him somehow. My life might not be worth much, but it's surely better than just a mere 'thank you'.'

It was not until a lavish yawn surprised her that Noelle noticed how tired she had become and that she had sat unmoving for some time. 'I need to go back to the bed' she thought sleepy. 'But I have no clue how to get there. I'm lost.' This realization filled her with a deep sadness, especially because she feared this would happen to her for the rest of her life now ... getting lost and being helpless. She had been forced to cope with her blindness alone for the past hours and she wished it was all only a nightmare. 'I don't even want to imagine what will happen to me out on the streets, if I can't even find my way in this house.'

Desperate thoughts made her head heavy and so she let it rest on one of the upholstered arms of the couch. Noelle felt miserable and even a bit sick, so she curled up like the cat on the other end of the furniture. Before sleep won over the young woman, she pulled some cloth over herself. Her fingers had found it by chance and it seemed to be made of the same material as the covering of the couch. Noelle smiled unconsciously at the somehow comforting and familiar smell of it.

**OOO**

The rest of the day Erik stayed unbothered by visitors. He never had been a patient man and his mind hardly ever stood still. So even if he spent most of the time unmoving in the shadows of the attic, he was wide awake and never bored.

Plans were made for a saver access to this hiding place and he considered various possibilities of how to observe the Christine and the Girys better. But Erik knew he had to take care of another matter, before he could spend more time up here or even take his angel away from the influence of Raoul de Chagny and the motherly protection of Madame Giry.

Noelle had to leave as soon as possible. 'I have sworn to take care of her, but it isn't good for her to stay with me much longer. Nobody can stay with me. Only Christine can bring enough light in my life to make my darkness bearable. I thought that I could cure Noelle's eyes, but I can't stay at her side and look after her all the time till that happens ... if it ever happens. In any case I can't allow her to find out too much about me or my home beneath the church.' Erik already had some people in mind that might be able to take her in and look after her well enough if they are rewarded accordingly.

In the middle of his brooding an unmistakable voice told him that Christine was back. It was evening and the growing darkness already would provide sufficient cover for him to go back to his underground refuge. Curiosity got the better of Erik and so he moved to find a good spying-place again. Since the inhabitants had to illuminate their rooms now and the roof-windows were already only dark shadows, it was easy to see which rooms where occupied.

"Oh maman, when will the police leave us alone? They keep asking the same questions again and again. We nearly missed our appointment with Monsieur Peizart." Madame Giry just came back from a short tour through the apartment. While listening to her daughter she had checked if there were any new signs of a certain secret visitor. "We have to corporate with them, Meg. It's their duty to find out who caused this catastrophe at the opera house. A lot of people were injured and some even ..." A sob interrupted Madame Giry's matter-of-fact voice and Erik saw how Christine rushed through his view into her bedroom. Soundlessly he stood up and was about to follow her, when somebody knocked on the door of the apartment.

"Who can this be now? We didn't announce any visitors to the concierge." "My dear, just open the door. Perhaps it's one of the chambermaids. It's impolite to keep her waiting." Erik would have turned away then if the girl had not made such a surprised sound.

"Vicomte de Chagny! We didn't expect you, but of course it's always a pleasure to meet you. You managed to return early from your journey then?" Madame Giry's skirts rustled when she greeted the young man properly. "Excuse me for my unannounced visit at this hour, Madame. I was here in the afternoon and the concierge told me when you planned to be back. Yes, I cut the meeting short, because I wanted to be back if Christine needs me." Erik felt the strong urge to close his hands around his delicate neck. 'Always so polite, Vicomte. Why couldn't you have been so nice and stayed away longer?'

"I'll ask Christine if she can come out to greet you, Vicomte. It was a very tiring day" offered Meg and knocked at the bedroom-door, before entering. Erik didn't bother to move, because he was sure Madame Giry wouldn't allow Raoul to meet Christine in her bedroom. And indeed, soon his angel appeared again. "Good evening, Raoul." It pained Erik to see them so close in the same room, even if they weren't alone. Christine sounded as if she was glad to see him.

"My dear, I've missed your beautiful eyes, but what is wrong? You seemed to have cried!" His worried tone was all that she needed. With another sob she ran into his arms, not caring that Madame Giry and Meg were watching them. "Oh Raoul, don't ask. Just hold me for some time!"

Erik didn't notice how Meg and her mother left the room. The sight of the embracing couple had stabbed a burning dagger of agony into his chest. Barely suppressing a tortured moan he fled out of the window which had been his entry. It was a miracle that he didn't fall down, since he barely looked where he placed his hands and feet. As soon as he was on the ground again he melted with the shadows of the evening and ran to the nearest access to the underground labyrinth that led to his refuge beneath the church.

**OOO**

Erik's chest seemed to burst. It couldn't be from the running, for his body was well trained, so it had to be his tormented heart. When he reached the sewers he wasn't sure if the sickness and nausea that overwhelmed him were caused by the stench or the images of Raoul and Christine in each others arms that kept appearing in front of his inner eye. At some point Erik just broke down and fell on his knees. He didn't care if he was soaked even more with the vile water. "Christine!" It was more like a desperate howl than the cry of a human being.

By the time the broken man reached the secret rooms deep under the church he had calmed down a bit. The conscious and mostly painful thoughts had retreated into a dark corner of his mind and he had found his way rather by instinct than on purpose. He didn't want to think about anything. He was tired physically as well as psychically. There was no need to illuminate the refuge, since he could see enough in the darkness to find his way to the bed. Part of him dreaded sleep, because usually it was haunted by nightmares. But Erik couldn't move anymore as soon as his head hit the pillow; he didn't even bother to shed his wet, stinking clothes or to cover himself with a blanket.

Before exhaustion pulled him into a deep sleep he noticed a faint smell all around him. It was soothing and seemed to lessen the pain in his heart.

To be continued ...

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A little SPOILER: This won't be the last time we see Christine in this story ;) 


	8. The calm before the storm

**Blind Mask**

(By: Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Erik started spying on Christine again, although she lived together with Meg and Madame Giry in an apartment provided by Raoul. Her feelings for the Phantom were obviously still very mixed up. After a whole day in hiding Erik had to witness how she turned to Raoul for comfort. When he fled at this sight he was unaware that his blind guest Noelle had explored some more of his home in his absence.

I want to thank Maria, for she doesn't give in easily and she helped a lot to improve the story. And TheGoddessofDeath found time for beta-reading, too, despite some private trouble.

Please, excuse the long wait. My time got short and it was difficult to write. I'm very happy that some of you actually asked when the story will continue ... I hope this new chapter doesn't dissappoint you. I'll try to update more frequently from now on.

I know not every reader reviews, but I'm still happy when you do - especially when you tell me what you think of my story, of if you ask questions about it. So, thank you Spikes Bint, PhantomPhluter and Rowena.

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**Chapter 8 - The calm before the storm**

'No, I don't want to wake up. It was such a pleasant dream ...'

The memory of the dream was slipping from Noelle's mind as she was waking up. She tried to call it back by snuggling deeper into the soft, warm bed, to which she was so unaccustomed that Noelle was sure it was part of the dream, too.

In her dream, she had felt like a princess, safeguarded in a secret tower by a mysterious knight. Her luxurious chamber had been full of flowers; the floor covered with wonderful pelts and carpets.

A smile crept to her lips when she remembered dancing barefoot on the soft and warm floor. The feeling of fur beneath her feet had been so real, and Noelle tried to remember the colourful flowers and their sweet scent.

It irritated her that the colors wouldn't come back to her memory, and the smell that reached her nose was not sweet at all. It was what had awakened her - the strong and revolting odour of sewage and dirt. Yet as she had lived and worked in the poorer quarters of Paris, the young woman was quite used to it. 'I know that when I open my eyes, I'll see nothing but Jacqueline's moldy apartment, and Madame Gevourx will soon start yelling at us to return to work.'

When Noelle opened her eyes everything remained dark and she felt a pain so sharp that she shut them again at once. Feverish and confused, she tried to remember what had happened. Noelle sat up and cradled her head in her hands. The reality struck her when she felt the bandage there, and all the memories of the fire, Erik, and her blindness washed over her at once. "Oh God, I am not with Jacqueline – I am in Erik's house!" A sound startled her. 'That isn't Ayesha ...' she thought, a little bit frightened. The fading sensation of warmth on her feet suggested that the cat must have had rested on them for some time not long ago.

"Monsieur Erik? Is that you?" Cautiously, she rose to her feet. With one hand she held the cloth she had used as a blanket, so that it wouldn't slip from her shoulders. Her other hand groped along the edge of the couch until her feet found the flat stairs again. "Monsieur Erik?" she whispered again.

The stench made her uneasy, for there had never been a smell like this in these rooms. 'I hope it is not a dead rat.' Noelle approached what she believed was the source of the awful smell. 'Perhaps Erik left a window open, and somebody dumped their filth underneath it?' She was relieved when her hands once again groped upon some furniture.

'It's the bed! I remember the feel of the bedpost! She filled with childish happiness and a rather ridiculous sense of pride, even though she had found her way back only by chance. The smell, which appeared to grow stronger, reminded her that something was not right. Still expecting to come across a dead rat or something equally disgusting, her hands explored the bed carefully.

**OOO**

_"Why am I here? I ran from this place many years ago!" Angrily, Erik pulled at the bars of his cage. It appeared smaller to him than it had been, but he was a grown man now, not a small, frightened boy. "Let me out! I'll kill you with my bare hands!" His booming threats received no answer. Suddenly, a light began to glow in the darkness that surrounded his prison._

_"Christine! Help me! Free me!" Erik implored helplessly, but she didn't move. _

_"She is mine, you monster. You make her cry and you frighten her. Leave her alone!" Out of nowhere Raoul appeared behind Erik, but when Erik turned to attack him, the Vicomte was gone. _

_"Erik ..."_

_He turned to face the person that had spoken his name. It had been only a whisper, and he could not remember who owned the voice, but he saw that Raoul held Christine in his arms now. Weakness and helplessness took over, and he believed his aching heart would stop at the mere sight of the couple. _

_Then something touched his leg, and a strange sensation filled him and banished the darkness. _

**OOO**

Erik could not name the odd feeling, but it was all that remained from the dream. Something had rescued him from his nightmare. Gasping, his eyes flew open and he looked around. He was more than a bit surprised to see Noelle kneeling next to the bed, her fingers tracing along his leg.

"Mademoiselle, why are you out of bed?" Despite the fact that he wasn't sure how he had gotten _into_ the bed, he kept his voice stern and pulled his leg away from her touch.

"Oh! Mon - Monsieur Erik!" Startled, Noelle gathered her hands to her chest and lowered her head guiltily. 'He will hit me, as Monsieur Lambielle did, when he found me touching his silver candelabra.' She braced herself. "I - I'm sorry that I got up on my own, but you were away, and I was hungry. Then I couldn't find the bed again, until now. Ay - Ayesha wanted some food, too!" She stammered out her explanation, attempting to justify her disobedience.

While listening to the woman, Erik lit up the lamp next to his bed. He wondered briefly why one edge of his book was stained with what must be tea. He arched a curious eyebrow at Noelle's appearance. 'Why is she using my velvet robe as a shawl? Didn't I leave it on the couch at the piano?' Then he noticed that he looked nearly as disheveled as she and got out of the bed. "Excuse me, Mademoiselle. I didn't intend to leave you alone all day. Circumstances delayed my return" he explained, his voice softening a bit.

Erik noticed that he had soiled the sheets and blankets with his damp, filthy clothes. "Let me help you …" he said to Noelle, assisting her up from the floor. She appeared to be cold, and since she could not use the bed in its current condition, he gently removed his robe from her shoulders, and helped her put it on properly. "Mademoiselle, you should at least dress correctly, if you start borrowing my clothes." It was awkward for him to see her using his personal possessions.

She did not resist when her 'blanket' was taken away for a moment and replaced by him. Without her sight, Noelle had learned to accept his assistance. "Thank you …" she whispered, for she was a bit embarrassed by wearing his robe. When Erik seated her down in the big armchair, she asked, "Monsieur Erik ... is something wrong here? This stench ..." Her voice grew more timid as she feared to insult him in his own home, more so as she was under the impression that this repulsive smell was from Erik himself.

He was very glad that she could not see him right now. Not for his disfigured face, but because he blushed and grinned at the same time. 'What an inquisitive girl!' Removing his cape, he replied, "No, everything is fine. Stay here in the armchair, while I take care of a few things. Do you need anything at the moment?"

She merely shook her head, and after providing her with a drink, he retreated into the bathroom.

**OOO**

The warm water was gradually making Erik drowsy; he had gotten only two or three hours of sleep before Noelle had woken him from his latest nightmare. His thoughts began to drift back to what he had heard and seen in the attic. 'Christine ...' his angel's name echoed in his soul.

After a short while, it became impossible for her to sit still and wait for Erik, especially having realized that he had been in the bed she was supposed to use. 'Does he want payment for his help, after all? Perhaps he merely waited until my fever broke. What would have happened, if I had been in the bed? Why did he leave me alone on the couch? Perhaps he was too tired, but I need to know what all of this means ...'

The sounds of water suggested to Noelle that Erik had retreated into the bathroom. It took her a few moments of intense listening to determine the direction from which the sounds came. Her unanswered questions filled her with the courage to begin another journey through her darkness. It was easier this time, for there was something to use as destination. She was surprised to find the big shelf she had explored earlier, and that it apparently was near the bathroom.

"Monsieur Erik - why were you in the - bed?" Noelle's voice came from the other side of the curtain that covered the entrance to the bathroom.

'Why does she always have to wander around?' He sighed inwardly, his patience with the girl growing thin.

Erik was thrown by her questions, at first; then he slowly understood what she must have meant. 'Does she think so horribly of all men, or myself alone?' he wondered, but had to admit that there were indeed plenty of men who would take advantage of her situation. He had witnessed more than once how some men had tried to force themselves on frightened girls at the Opera House. Occasionally he had shown them how much he despised such behavior and scared them away before any harm could be done to their victims.

Ever since Erik had been first forced in his youth by the gypsies to show himself as the famous _Living Corpse_, he had wished to be invisible to others. Around this blind woman, however, he slowly began to feel safe enough to walk around without hiding behind fine clothes and masks, and so he only put on a velvet robe before stepping through the curtain. Noelle was holding on to the shelf next to the entrance. She appeared somehow lost and tilted her head as though she was trying to locate his position.

"To be truthful, I didn't pay much attention to where I fell asleep or where you were," Erik began, feeling no need to lie about the matter. "You were lucky that I did not go to the couch this night. I might have not noticed you at first, but unlike in the bed, there would have been no room enough for two." He paused and was amused by her shocked gasp of breath. "Do not worry, Mademoiselle, I never intended to take advantage on you, nor do I plan to do so in the future." Erik knew he would have felt very awkward waking up next to her, for he never had shared a bed with anyone, but he wanted her to know that he would never force himself upon a woman.

Noelle blushed fiercely. She was ashamed to have had insulted Erik with her unspoken assumption, but she felt somehow rejected, too. His voice seemed to mock her, but she believed him. She wrapped his robe tighter around her. "I'm sorry. I will not take up your bed anymore. You have already gone through a lot of trouble because of me."

'Of course ... who would want to stay in a bed where I had slept?' His painful memories drifted once more to the gypsies, who had always secured their tents and wagons a good distance away from his cage and later his own tent. 'They shunned me because of my face and their superstition. Christine convinced me that she could see past this curse, but she turned away from the distorted being behind it.'

"May I instead sleep on the couch from now on?" Noelle was contemplating Erik's silence. 'Was I ungrateful to refuse his bed? It is his home and I am not even a guest, but a burden.' Of course, she did not see the dark shadows across his face, induced by unpleasant memories, or how he turned to her in astonishment.

Gradually Erik grew uneasy, as he often forgot that she could not condemn him for his face yet. Christine had been that way, too, when he had still been her mysterious Angel of Music. 'No. Noelle knows that I'm real. How can this woman be so trusting, while entirely at my mercy?' He was fascinated and irritated by it at the same time. "You are still not well. The bed is best for you, and I do not want you near the piano."

"You own a piano?"

"Of course ..." Erik reminded himself that she probably had not noticed it upon her exploration of his home. "Perhaps we should eat something. Later, I will see to your injuries. If your eyes have healed well enough, I will turn you over to someone else's care soon." He went back into the bathroom without another look at Noelle.

She didn't reply and waited patiently until he returned to guide her. 'Where will he send me? Will my eyes heal after all or is there no hope left? Perhaps he only wants to be free of this burden as soon as possible. Should I be glad to leave this place?'

**OOO**

Several days passed uneventfully. Noelle's hands and arms were nearly healed, but Erik still did not want to leave the treatment of her eyes to an ordinary physician. He believed the medical knowledge he had acquired during his travels was more useful and trustworthy.

Erik had shown her how to find her way around his apartment, and how to identify certain objects. It had distracted him from his dark thoughts, and since he still continued to feel the inexplicable lack of interest in his music, he enjoyed occupying himself with other matters. He had even constructed a walking stick for Noelle. He had, however, resumed his morphine addiction, to ward off his nightmares.

The last examination of her eyes had been rather painful, although she had tried to concentrate on Erik's warm, soothing voice. He had hardly left her alone for longer than a few hours, but Noelle had started to withdraw more and more into herself. She was certain that he did all he could and perhaps more than anybody else would, especially for one like her. But she could tell from his tone that he hardly believed anymore in the recovery of her sight. It became evident when Erik began teaching her things only a blind person would need to know.

She attempted to cope with that grim prospect the best she could. It was not so hard to feel the way with the walking stick, or to recognize food and other objects via touch and smell. But it saddened her that she would never see the world again. Even the sight of the wrinkled face of Madame Gevourx would make her happy now.

Erik often noticed her sadness, but he neither commented on it, nor said anything about the tears that sometimes wetted the bandages over her eyes. All he did for her comfort was to assure her that she wouldn't have to worry about her future or money - that he would send her to a place where she would be well taken care of. Erik knew it was his fault that she had become blind, and he intended to keep his vow: this innocent victim would not suffer anymore.

"What does this carving show?"

Surprised, Erik looked up from his book. It had been the first question to come from Noelle in some time. He noticed her hands were moving over the headboard of the bed. "It is a forest with animals: deer, birds, rabbits ..."

She frowned and traced the carvings with her fingers. "I have never been in a forest. I've seen animals on the market and once in a traveling fair. And ... it becomes harder to remember what things look like ..." Noelle's voice trailed to a whisper and mirrored her fear of losing the memory of pictures and colors as well as her sight.

Erik's heart skipped a beat when she mentioned the fair. It brought a memory back - one that he would gladly forget, if he were able to. "I have some books here. If you like, I could read to you something that describes such things very well." It appeared to lift her spirit, and she stopped clinging to the carvings.

Years ago, this place had been a temporary refuge for him, but fortunately he had never neglected it entirely. He had not looked at the few books he had left there in a long time. Erik began with a scientific book about trees, but soon he noticed there were too many Latin words in it. In fact he had used it once to learn this language himself. He next chose to read to her from a book of old legends, occasionally adding his own words for a more detailed and vivid description.

"You have such a wonderful voice, Monsieur Erik." Noelle wasn't certain if it was an appropriate comment, but she felt the need to say it nonetheless. "It reminds me of music." While indeed strange, those last words were a rather appropriate description.

Such compliments were nothing new to him. He was aware of the power of his voice most of his life. Still, her comparison amused him. "Music, Mademoiselle? I thought you knew little of music."

"That is true, but do you remember the violin we heard that night? The melody it was playing made me think of beams of sunlight glittering in the water. I saw pictures in my head, as though drawn by the music. It happens while I listen to your stories, too."

Noelle heard Erik stand up with a contemptuous sound. 'I must have spoken again as the ignorant child that I am. He obviously is a very educated man; it surely aggravates him to hear such nonsense.' Suddenly, her ears perceived the soft sound of a violin. It gradually grew louder and the tune became more and more complicated. The whirling sounds formed colors and images in her mind, part of her yearned to touch them, or at least dance. "It is the same melody!" Noelle exclaimed as soon as he finished playing. "But it is so much more alive! After that night, I thought I had a dream about it, but it was you, who played the violin! That was so beautiful ... I could see so much more than the first time, butterflies dancing over a flowered meadow ... Can you please play it again?"

Erik watched the abrupt change in the young woman with amazement. Her face lit with a smile, and she even laughed. With sweeping gestures, she emphasized what she was describing. "Well, Mademoiselle, this melody is titled 'Dancing Butterflies'. It's only a small part of a whole sonata."

She sat down on the bed again, awash in fantasies born from his music. Not even in her dreams had she encountered such breathtaking visions. Somehow, she knew that she would not forget those images.

While his bow magically wove more wondrous melodies, Erik wondered why he had begun playing again. Noelle had given him the small impetus he could not find on his own anymore, and as long as he performed tunes to which Christine had not sung or danced to, it was, in fact, quite pleasant.

'Christine ...' He had managed to ban her from his thoughts the past several days, but music had wakened his passion, which still yearned for his beautiful angel,. Perhaps it always would. Noelle couldn't notice the pained expression that suddenly lingered on Erik's face for some moments until he plunged himself even deeper into the melody, but she was aware that his tune changed somewhat. She believed to have heard a whispered name that was not familiar to her amidst the music.

To be continued …


	9. Make your choice

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: … see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: Christine learned that the Phantom was still alive and watching her, but she wasn't able to give up on Raoul yet. Erik tried to distract himself by spending more time with Noelle, who slowly started to accept that she might be blind forever. At last Erik's music fills her imagination with some pictures.

Again, Maria helped a lot to make this chapter better and provided nearly all of the really good sounding passages ;) Lotte Isilya was so kind to give everything a final check.

Erik'sTrueAngel ... yes, you're right, of course it was Noelle who freed Erik from his last nightmare. But I'm afraid our favorite phantom will stay stubborn for a while ... it's just the way he is ;)

Shelvins ... I'm happy that you like Ayesha in this story. Although I didn't plan this from the start, she'll be quite an important character here (at last for a cat).

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**Chapter 9 - Make your choice**

Erik's concentration was solely reserved for his work. Soon he would need to retrieve some of the money he had put away, and since he could no longer blackmail the management of the Opera, he had to come up with new ways to acquire money.

At the same time new melodies began slowly forming in his mind. Erik had not played them on the piano yet, as he rarely touched it. The instrument reminded him too much of Christine.

Suddenly he sensed a movement behind him and stopped writing. Erik knew almost instantly it was Noelle, but he had not expected her to be holding a cup of steaming tea in her hand while she approached him slowly. The situation reminded him unpleasantly of the fateful moment before Christine had ripped off his mask for the first time. She had, too, surprised him while he had been absorbed in his music. "Mademoiselle, what are you doing?" Erik managed to keep his voice calm, though he was somewhat thrown by the smile on the young woman's face.

"I noticed that you prepared some tea, Monsieur Erik, but I got the impression you forgot about it." In fact Noelle often had counted the time when Erik had brewed his tea. Tricks like that, many of which he had taught her himself, helped her to grow more independent. Realizing the tea he had prepared himself had been completely forgotten, Noelle had decided to try and show that she could make herself useful. Due to his help, she had been able to find her way about the little kitchen, and so, with great effort and determination, she had succeeded to serve him with his forgotten cup of tea.

'She looks somewhat different. Not ill anymore, although I know all too well that her eyes are still red and sore underneath the bandage.' He watched for a few more moments how Noelle approached him with confident, calculated steps. "Thank you, Mademoiselle. You need not bother with such things. Where is your walking stick?" Erik was a bit irritated. He was not accustomed to being served, nor did he want her hurt while attending him. Carefully and with a nod she could not see, he took the cup from her hand. "Here, sit down, please." Gently he seated her on a nearby chair.

For some time now, Noelle wished to know more about Erik. It was hard for her to imagine what he looked like or what he was doing. Erik always maintained a distance between them. This was evident in their conversations and that he had as little physical contact with her as possible.

The only part of him Noelle had consciously touched had been his hands, andshe remembered them well.They were large, but so slender that they nearly seemed fragile. Yet Noelle knew they could be as strong as they could be gentle. Sometimes Erik wore gloves, but they could hide neither the odd coldness of his touch, nor the ring he wore on his little finger.

He often brought fresh roses to his home. Their rich smell greatly improved the normally musty air. Noelle wished to know if he bought them for himself or a lady he was courting, but of course she did not dare to question him about so private a matter.

"I have to go out soon, and I do not know for how long I will be away. I believe you will be fine on your own for a time." This announcement came rather unexpectedly. Yes, Noelle wanted to show him and herself how independent she had become despite her blindness, but she feared loneliness regardless.

Erik noticed that her smile vanished and her face paled. "In a few days I'll show you to your new home. The people will be kind to you there. Every month I will send someone there to pay for your accommodation and everything else you might need." He assured her once more of that. 'I hope Jules made a good choice in this matter.' Erik often relied on the man, who had been a great help for years, even more now that his power as Opera Ghost was no more. Both men had become dependant upon one another over the years. Jules needed Erik's money, and Erik, on his part, often required Jules' vastly varied services.

"Thank you, Monsieur Erik," Noelle said after a moment. "I'm very grateful for all that you have done for me. Will I be able to meet you occasionally? I will miss your stories and your music." The truth of those words surprised her. Noelle inwardly realized that she was afraid to leave this place and meet new people. Outside this house there was a whole world which she had to grow blindly accustomed to. 'Can I learn to trust more strangers as I trust Erik?'

It was evident that the young woman was not pleased with his announcement, even if she tried to hide it. 'Of course she is disappointed. She is still blind! All I ever did for her was ruin her life.'

"I think you will be better off without me."

**OOO**

Once more Erik stood in the dark alley, watching the apartment building in which Christine currently lived. It was evening, and he wore a mask of dark leather. It did not sit as comfortably as his old, white mask and chafed his disfigured cheek, but he felt safer with it, especially out in the streets.

This visit was better prepared than the first one. Noelle could be safely left alone for a time, and he had decided upon how to approach Christine. It would be as it had been at the Opera House, when he had lured her out of her dressing room and had spent most of the night teaching her to sing. Erik cherished the memory of those few precious hours. He always had been reluctant to bring her back, but it would have been too selfish and dangerous to keep her with him longer.

It didn't take long for him to climb up into the attic again. The apartment was still dark, but Erik knew Christine and the Girys would come back soon. Due to one of Jules' contacts he was well informed of their coming and going.

While he was waiting, he made sure his appearance was decent. In his refuge beneath the church, with only a blind woman and a cat as companions, he often neglected to wear his mask and wig. It seemed as if the rage that had destroyed his beloved Opera House and driven Christine into the arms of her Vicomte had also killed part of him. He still could not bear to look at his disfigured skull, but he hardly felt the need to disguise himself as a perfectly groomed gentleman anymore. Tonight, however, was different. Although Christine already knew what was hidden under the mask and claimed to be not frightened by it, he did not want to show his disfigured face.

Finally he heard a carriage pulling up in front of the building.

**OOO**

Not long after the three women had entered their apartment, they were disturbed by a knock on the door. Madame Giry answered it and met the boy who was assisting the Concierge.

"Madame, a gentleman is asking for you and Mademoiselle Giry." The boy stepped aside, waiting for an answer or that she would follow him downstairs.

"What is his name?" Madame Giry asked with a frown. 'Is it another reporter or police officer? If so, why did he not ask for Christine?'

"I'm sorry, Madame, but he didn't mention his name. He claimed to be an old acquaintance of yours."

"Who can this be, mother?" Meg inquired eagerly.

"I don't know, my dear. The former ballet-mistress turned and addressed Christine, who had thus far been very silent. "I don't think it will take long. I will send Meg back to you if I am mistaken."

Christine smiled lovingly at the woman who was like a mother to her. "You don't have to worry about me. I am not a child who can't stay alone for a few hours." No one commented on this, although all three women knew Christine needed a lot of company since the dramatic events at the Opera. Soon, the young woman was alone in the apartment.

**OOO**

"Christine ..." Her heart and soul awoke instantly to the familiar voice, even if it nearly was too soft to hear.

"Christine ..." Her breath caught in her throat and she yearned to follow the seductive call. She closed her eyes and drifted off to memories and dreams she had tried to forget. She could not help but wonder why Raoul was unable to stir in her such powerful and consuming emotions; why she could not give in to the Vicomte as she had long since surrendered to her Angel of Music.

"My beautiful angel ..." The velvety voice surrounded her, whispering right into her heart.

'I am dreaming.' Christine had heard _his_ voice nearly every night in her sleep since Raoul had taken her away from the Opera House. It was different than in her youth - she felt more alive in those dreams than when she was awake. She had not sung a single note since her old life had been shattered like the magnificent Opera House, but in her dreams she always returned to her teacher. The Angel of Music was still able to inspire her voice, at last while she was sleeping.

"Erik," she breathed his name, sacred and corrupt at the same time. Christine had not intended to utter it, but now the unpleasant memories that were connected to its bearer returned. The spell began to break. A cold shiver ran down her spine when she heard the door being locked.

"I am here, my angel." Christine's eyes snapped open and she turned to the source of the voice, which had answered her unspoken question. Erik stood at the door to the apartment. His gloved hand still resting on the key he had just turned. At first, Christine could not believe her eyes, and yet his very presence in the room was too powerful to be dismissed as mere illusion. It was not a ghost standing before her, but a man. Even if she had not seen him change before her eyes after she had kissed him, she would have noticed that he was different. She had but to look him in the eyes. His mask, she noticed, was also different. The dark brown presented an obvious contrast to the former white, and made him look somehow less intimidating.

Soundlessly, Erik had entered the bedroom the same way he had once before. With his marvellous voice he had entranced Christine, and stealthily joined her in the parlour. Her friend and guardian would not be back anytime soon, but he did not want to risk being disturbed. He had made sure an old friend of Madame Giry and her late husband would pay them a visit this evening.

When he was finally prepared to face her, he broke his spell. Erik could not bear to use his tricks on her any longer. He did not want her to be his marionette, now even less than before.

They stared at each other for the longest time. Christine's first impulse was to cry for help, but she could not. 'He would never harm me.' Even if no one believed it, her heart knew it was true. 'Somehow I knew he would come to me.' It had been only a matter of time after the letter he had left on the dressing table. Christine remembered how relieved she had been when she had learned that Erik was still alive, but she had still been afraid to face him again. She was aware now, more than ever before, that he was no angel or phantom but a man. Part of her screamed that he was a murderer and a blackmailer, and that she should not be alone with him - but as much as she feared him, she was drawn to him, too.

'She is so beautiful. How could I dare to come near her again?' Erik's eyes relished what he had been denied for so long. There she was - his angel - only a few steps away. He wanted to run over to her, beg for her forgiveness and her love. Yet, he stayed where he was, a safe distance away from Christine. He saw no fear in her eyes, only acceptance of his presence, but he did not want to shatter this fragile moment.

"Why are you here?" Her voice rang tenderly in his ears. How he craved to hear her sing again!

"Christine, you are my angel … you brought the light into my life. Only your kindness showed me that I deserve to life at all." In long, swift strides he was beside her, kneeling at her side and holding her hands in his. She gasped in surprise and could not turn her eyes away from his. Hundreds of emotions reflected in those fathomless orbs. "Come back to me," he implored.

"Come back to you?" He had asked her to stay with him before. He had even tried to force her, threatening Raoul's life. To come back to him ... although part of her wished to be reunited with her mysterious teacher, she dreaded the thought of being captive in his dark realm again. Erik could read her feelings plainly on her face.

"No, do not fear me, my love." He dreaded her fear more than her rejection. Slowly, his hand reached up to her face as he wordlessly asked for permission to touch her. Christine's eyes softened and he gently caressed her cheek. "I can not forget the wonderful music we created together. Our souls were one, Christine." The fingers of his other hand entwined with hers.

"Come with me. You are the only one who voluntarily touched this cursed face to show me love. You even granted me a kiss. I do not want to fall back into darkness without your light. Let me be with you, and I will be at your command and fulfil all that you desire." She had granted him so much and he knew he was not worthy of it. He had been condemned into darkness and loneliness since birth, but that could not be an excuse for all his terrible deeds. 'I was a creature of darkness, and yet I have been touched by her light. Nothing that I have done for her can compare with that.' Erik cherished every second he spent in Christine's presence. He was afraid a wrong word or deed would destroy this precious moment.

Raoul's romantic promises and sweet declarations of his love appeared somewhat shallow, compared to Erik's words. 'I want to believe him ...' Christine drowned in Erik's eyes while her body trembled at his enchanting voice. She did not fear his touch anymore, as it was tender and loving. Once again she could see what a vulnerable human being was hidden behind the mask and the cursed face beneath it.

Slowly she leaned forward and lifted her free hand to touch him. Suddenly Christine was aware of something cool that brushed the bare skin of her low neckline. It was the golden jewelled necklace that Raoul had given her that evening. Abruptly her mind was filled with images of Raoul and her head began reeling. "No!" Christine screamed the word more to herself than to Erik, but the pain it inflicted upon him was evident. She stood up and stepped away from him, muttering to herself, "I can't ... I can't ... God, please tell me! Why do I have to go through this?" She touched Raoul's gift in fear she would lose herself again in the Phantom's spell.

Erik was devastated by this rejection. He knew he could not force her to love him. Her kiss had already brought more happiness and peace into his life than he ever could have imagined. The look in her eyes had told him that she had not done it only to save Raoul's life, and it had torn down the walls around his heart. He had freed both of them, to be left alone in his shame. But out of this was born a new determination. Erik wanted to show Christine that he was worthy of her love. She only had to give him the chance to prove it.

"Christine, why do you shy away from me?" He stood up but stayed where he was, spreading his hands to show that he would not approach her without her admission. "My angel, our bond is formed in music and passion. Can you indeed give it up? Please, let me show you that I can change and give you the life you deserve."

She knew it was inevitable to face him and her own turbulent emotions. 'I can't deny that nothing can be compared to the music we share, but his voice stirs something in me that I am afraid of. My love for Raoul is true, although he will never completely ban Erik from my mind.' For some moments thoughts of both men nearly overwhelmed her. They were so different and lived in completely separate worlds, yet they shared so much. Christine finally turned to Erik and found the courage to let go of the necklace. "I share a deep bond with Raoul, too. And, like you, he offers me the world, if I stay with him. I cannot bear this from both of you!"

That silenced Erik. Never in his dreams - nor his nightmares – had he thought she would compare him to the Vicomte. He knew the boy loved Christine, too, but Raoul's feelings surely were not as deep as his own. Of course he envied Raoul, as the Vicomte was not born with a devils face. "I am nothing like this boy. I watched over you and guided you for years. The Vicomte does not know you as I do. Your heart and soul hunger for music." For a moment he was afraid she would deny it, but her eyes only lowered in agreement. While he appeared calm on the outside, Erik was nervous and confused. He felt that Christine was holding something back from him, and he knew that they wouldn't have much time left.

"Yes, I gave you my soul and trusted you blindly, but you murdered and threatened to keep me prisoner in your darkness. A life with Raoul might keep me from stage, but at least I won't have to fear your unpredictable temper and he will never deceive me. I wished all of this would end ..." Christine could not help but start crying. Her outburst surprised her and she almost feared Erik would become angry. Instead, he approached her slowly and gathered her in his arms, stroking her hair, soothing her with his beautiful voice. Christine felt like a little girl once more comforted by her dear father. For Erik, it was another moment of overwhelming joy. Although he had caused her tears, his angel still allowed him to embrace her, and Christine's slender arms held on to him as if he were her lifeline.

After she had calmed down, Christine stepped back, struggling for the right words to say. "He - Raoul - he gave me until tomorrow to decide. If I want to be with him, he will make our engagement official immediately and we are to be wed in some weeks. His sisters and aunt say that I have much to learn, before I could be a proper wife to a Vicomte. Raoul agrees that I should live with them for a while to gain their acceptance. But I know they only wish to prove him that I will never truly belong." She paused before continuing. "If I refuse, his family demands that he refrains from seeing me ever again."

It pained Erik to hear the regret in her voice at that prospect and he could not hide it completely when he asked softly: "Would you be equally distressed if you could never see _me_ again? I don't know if I can bear having you become his wife. My heart threatens to stop every time he holds you in his arms."

Suddenly, Christine fiercely grabbed the collar of his vest. "Don't force such a burden on my shoulders, Erik! I can't bear it! There is love in my heart for both of you, don't you understand? But being with you costs so much strength and courage and I don't know if I can do that. Please, I don't know what I would do if you die! You were always there for me. You are still my angel of music!" She desperately tried to hold on to the dream she had shared with this man.

It became harder and harder to control himself. Her touch burned like fire. He knew Christine was not his yet, but Erik would rather burn to ashes than part with her, as he might never get the chance to hold her again. With his last strength, he pulled away from her and bowed politely as the gentleman he was dressed to be. "I can't foresee when my heart will fail me, but I can be at least as generous as your precious Vicomte. I will leave you alone so you can make your decision. Since I think you will regret your choice when you stay with the boy, I will be watching you, no matter where you will live. No matter if you choose me tomorrow or in a few weeks, I will provide you with the life you wish to live, should you choose to share it with me."

Without another word and without waiting for her response, he left. Christine was too stunned to say anything or follow him. When she finally ran after him into the bedroom, it was empty. On her pillow lay a single, blood-red rose. This time, there was no letter with the flower, but a ring. She recognized it as the simple delicate golden band he had given her once before, when he had asked her to be his wife for the first time. 'I gave it back to him when he sent me away. I would have stayed with him when I slipped it on my finger the first time, but I felt I did not deserve it when I was glad that he didn't make me stay with him after all.'

Raoul's engagement ring had been ripped off the chain that carried it by Erik. It probably was lost for good. Raoul did not mind much - he had given her that wonderful necklace to show his immense affection for her. He had promised Christine that her finger would be adorned with a matching new engagement ring, if she decided to stay with him and become his true fiancיe. Only then she had realized that she had never worn his first ring properly, but that she had willingly put on Erik's.

With great care, she wrapped the golden band in a handkerchief with the embroidered initials of her father's name and hid it away. It was one of the few personal possessions she had been able to rescue from the scorched ruin of the Opera House.

To be continued …


	10. Touch me, trust me

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: ... see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: As soon as Erik's blind guest Noelle was able to stay alone for a while, he went out to secretly meet Christine once more. This time he tried to earn her forgiveness and love, so that she might stay with him for good. But Christine told him that Raoul had asked once more to marry him, too, and she had only one night left to decide.

After a lot of discussions, corrections and some rewritings this chapter got finished … with much help of Maria. Thank you!

Lotte Isilya claimed there were no further mistakes in this text and made me very happy, because she seemed to be very enthusiastic about it.

irrelevant ... don't be afraid, this story will not end as E/C, although Christine will be an essential part of it.

Erik'sTrueAngel ... I'm glad that you got the point of how I see Christine, or let's say how I want to portrait her in this story.

Spikes Bint ... it honors me that mine is one of the few stories that you still follow! By the way, I'm not exactly a R/C-shipper, too, because I just don't like Raoul very much most of the time ... and well, I'm reading the new HP-book, too ;)

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**Chapter 10 - Touch me, trust me**

Noelle flinched when Erik stormed into the room. He was usually very composed, but now his steps were heavy and rushed. He did not answer her greeting. She heard him hurl his cape to the floor before he began pacing, muttering to himself. 'He is back earlier than I expected.' The young woman had not intended to wait for his return, but Ayesha had been in playful mood and so she still was wide-awake. 'What is wrong with him?' His unusual behaviour alarmed her.

Erik did not notice when Noelle stood up and slowly walked towards him - he was too busy freeing himself from the uncomfortable, old mask and the jacket. "Tomorrow!" he barked, unaware that he was not alone in the room. "How can I wait until tomorrow, knowing that she will choose that boy anyway! It would be easier to wait for my death-sentence. I am such a fool. Why did I go to her?" Erik was helpless. He knew Christine had already granted him more happiness than he ever dreamed of and still he wished she would accept him at her side. It drove him mad that he could do nothing but wait until she had made her choice – and he was not a patient man.

Whirling around, he literally crashed into Noelle, who let out a surprised cry. Erik backed away as if he had gotten burned and growled threateningly, while the young woman lost her balance and crumpled on the floor.

Noelle bit her lip to withhold an oath. She had become used to bumping into objects due to her blindness, but she had yet to find Erik so angry. 'I better get out of his way ...' she told herself and muttered an excuse for her carelessness.

The sudden encounter with the blind woman had brought Erik out of his fit of rage. His mind had been so busy with Christine that he had forgotten all about Noelle. Now he stared down at her, as she drew back from him. 'Did I hurt her!' He cursed inwardly as he remembered his utter loss of control only moments before.

At first he did not dare to touch her, but when she could not find her walking stick he finally reached out and took her hands. "I am sorry, Mademoiselle. Are you hurt? I should have paid more attention." Noelle was surprised at the concern in his voice and felt that his hands were shaking a bit. It appeared he was more shocked by his outburst than she. Noelle gladly accepted his help and mustered a weak smile while standing up.

"I am fine, but it seems something is bothering you, Monsieur Erik. Is there any way I could help you?" She noticed that the ring he always wore was apparently gone. Frowning, she unconsciously tightened her grip on his hands. 'Did he give it away? Perhaps to this woman he was speaking of?' Noelle couldn't begin to understand why Erik would be so upset, but she did not want to meddle in his private affairs.

He froze when she held on to his hands with a strange expression on her face. It appeared as if she wanted to ask something, but instead patiently waited for his answer. "There is no need to worry about me or my affairs, Mademoiselle." It nearly sounded like a threat and she chose to keep quiet.

Unbeknownst to Noelle, Erik lost himself into a rather generous dose of Morphine. For a while he attempted to distract both himself and Noelle from the earlier occurrences of that day through reading, but after a few pages the drug lulled him into sleep.

**OOO**

For some time now, the bandages over her eyes had grown increasingly uncomfortable as was Erik's medicine, which had started to cause her headaches. Of course Noelle had not told him about either.

Until now she had obeyed his command and had never taken off the dressing herself. However, Noelle was confident that Erik was fast asleep - she could hear quiet snoring from his direction. 'Surely it can do no harm if I remove the bandage for a short time.' Stealthily, she began to loosen the cloth with careful, slow motions and hardly dared to breathe. She enjoyed the feeling of cool air over her closed eyelids, and after a beat, she mustered the courage to tenderly touch them with her fingertips.

Noelle was relieved to find no scars, although Erik had already assured her she would bear none. She had seen people with ugly, disfiguring scars caused by burns, and those images never had left her mind while she had been recovering. This discovery, and that Erik still appeared to be in deep slumber, increased her courage and self-confidence. She ignored all his commands and tried to open her eyes.

It hurt and her tears increased that pain, but Noelle merely tried to blink them away instead of rubbing. She hardly had any hope she would be able to see this time, and as expected everything remained dark. For a few moments Noelle tried to focus on something she believed to see, but she could not make it out. She tried to move her hands in front of her face, but her eyes began to sting again.

The woman could not know that the candles which Erik had lit had already gone out and the coals in the stove hardly lit the room. With her eyes still weak as they were, she was shrouded in almost complete darkness.

As she sat in the silence, Noelle's thoughts returned to something that had been troubling her in the past few days. 'He'll send me away soon ... and I still hardly know him.' Erik had taught her how to use her hands instead of her eyes, and she had been very eager to explore a lot of his possessions. Having grown accustomed to seeing with her hands, she had only one solution in mind.

'I want to remember him. I want to _know_ him, beyond his marvellous voice and his gentle hands. But I don't dare ask him for permission to touch his face. Erik would laugh at my silly request, or perhaps be angered.' Noelle hesitated. The thought had crossed her mind whenever he had mentioned their approaching parting. 'I feel I am betraying his trust. It's quite clear he does not want me to know anything about him, but I cannot understand why.'

Very slowly, Noelle left the bed and approached Erik, who was still asleep in his big armchair at the foot of the bed. Her hand trembled when she finally reached out to him. She found his shoulders and neck, and was surprised that he did not wake up at the sudden contact. With feather-light touches, her fingers moved higher and over both sides of his face.

She never had had the chance to explore another person's facial features but her own since she had gone blind. Nevertheless, it soon became obvious to her that something was wrong with the right half of Erik's head. There were odd bumps and the skin felt rough. His hairline appeared to be uneven and she was not certain he had any hair on the right side at all. It was definitely not what she had expected and she could not understand her strange discovery.

**OOO**

Ayesha was curled up on Erik's lap when Noelle approached the armchair, and the cat eyed her with wide, blue eyes. She felt instinctively that the woman was up to something, thus Ayesha gave her a warning look. But Noelle apparently ignored the cat.

Instead of waking Erik or scaring off the woman, Ayesha stayed silent and calm. Her curiosity was greater than the loyalty to the man who had saved her life when she had been a starving kitten.

**OOO**

Morphine usually granted Erik a dreamless, deep sleep. Sometimes, however, he felt as if he was waking into a nightmare when its effect subsided.

That night, his mind was so troubled that even the drug could not block out everything. Vaguely at first, he became more and more aware of someone touching his face; a sensation he was so unaccustomed to that it brought him almost instantly to full awakening.

His mind was still numb from morphine and his sight was blurry. At first he could not make out the face before him as it was barely visible in the poorly lit room. Instinctively he prepared himself to attack the intruder.

Suddenly he was fully aware of cool fingers tracing his face, their touch so tender that for a moment Erik allowed himself to ease into it. An instant later this wonderful sensation was pierced by panic. 'My mask!' His first instinct was to cover his deformity with his hand, but he found himself unable to move. 'Noelle!' Finally he recognized her face – and that her eyes were uncovered. 'She has _seen_ me!'

**OOO**

With a raging growl Erik pushed Noelle away and got up. "What have you done? Don't touch me! Don't _look_ at me!" He did not care if she got hurt when his strong arms freed himself of her. Like a caged tiger he paced the room and knocked over all furniture in his way. His right hand covered the marred cheek, while he searched for his mask.

"You are just like Christine! Why do you have to see what should remain hidden?" Every painful second of the time when the singer had ripped off his mask forced its way back into his mind. The anger and shame he had felt back then added to his current feelings. "Leave me alone!" That last outburst left him trembling and out of breath. Erik knew he would loose control if he stayed there any longer. Screaming curses in every language known to him he fled from the room.

Nothing could have scared Noelle more than Erik's thundering voice. Trembling with fear, she curled herself into a fetal position, burrowing her head under her arms. 'He will kill me!' She was sure of that, although she did not know what had provoked such anger. When he started to howl another name and accused her of having seen him, she was sure he had gone mad. Something hard hit her, but her cry of pain was lost in his screams. 'Flee!' Her body needed a moment to respond to her instinct's command, but she ultimately managed to crawl forward.

Noelle did not know where she was headed; all she wanted was to get out of his way, out of his sight. She found the rough surface of the wall and stayed close to it as she stumbled forward as fast as she could. When her hands groped upon a heavy door she pulled at it with panic-filled strength. Noelle ran through it as soon as it was opened wide enough. Dimly she was aware that his screams grew more distant and that her feet struggled through cold water, but she was too afraid to stop.

Unnoticed by both humans, the cat had jumped on the shelf next to the armchair when Erik's rage exploded. Ayesha watched them with ruffled fur and flattened her ears at his shouting. The Siamese did not leave her hiding place until everything was silent in the room again. Her eyes shining with curiosity, she finally decided whom she should follow.

**OOO**

By the time Erik began to calm down he found himself hiding in a hidden crypt with only the dusty remains of old graves for company. He would not be stared at in here, for this place was long forgotten by the world.

Only after his racing mind had stilled somewhat, was Erik able to think clearly again. 'When will I ever find peace? What made me believe I could let my guard down in her presence?'

He was so terribly tired of being stared at! If the choice had been his, he would never have shown his face, not even to Christine. When he had been forced to wear his mask as a child, he had hated it. Yet, it had grown to be such a part of him that he held onto it ever since, as his only means of protection.

After a while he began to wonder why he had fled from Noelle in the first place. She could do him no harm, and he would never hurt her. He could still remember her touch on his face. His own fingers traced the memory, but they stopped when he touched the mask. Reluctantly Erik started to head back to his home.

No sound came from the rooms, nor was there a sign of his cat. 'I hope I have not chased her away for good this time.' The glowing coals in the stove merely cast enough light to see some contours of the furniture. Nevertheless, Erik habitually kept to the shadows as his eyes skimmed over the main room. 'Where is that damn woman? I will require more light than this if I intend to search for her in every corner.' Only then did he realize how impossible it was for her to have seen much of him, even if she had recovered her sight.

A rare feeling swept over him: regret. Sighing, he leaned his back against the cold wall and ran a hand through his thin hair, avoiding the right side of his face. 'I hope she has run away. It would be better for her and for me.' However, Erik could not ignore his inner voice, which told him that the woman would most likely not find her way out of the dark tunnels on her own.

"Noelle? Are you here? Don't be afraid." He did not really expect an answer, for the rooms were silent as the grave and no other breathing than his own could be heard. Erik reached out to the nearest lamp and lit it. Its soft glow illuminated a deserted room, which had evidently suffered in his fit of rage.

All that was left of his guest was the discarded bandage on the bed, and he soon found the door to the northern tunnels open. 'I can't let her wander around down here. I have brought her into those tunnels - I have to make sure she leaves them again unharmed.'

Erik donned a warm cape and threw a second one over his shoulder. The passages he was about to enter were very damp and cold. He retrieved a torch from a rack by the door and lit it.

To be continued …


	11. The veil is lifted

**Blind Mask**

(by Nicole Gruebel)

Disclaimer: ... see chapter 1

Summary of the past chapters: When Erik finally faced Christine after the fire at the Opera House he had to learn that Raoul had asked her to officially become his fiancée. She feared to lose Erik, but apparently wasn't ready to choose him either. To survive the uncertain hours till Christine would make her final decision, Erik gave in to Morphine once more. This weakness, however, allowed Noelle to uncover her eyes and touch his face. Erik's fit of rage sent Noelle into a panicked flight. He believed her sight had returned and that she had seen him.

You will notice how much help I had from Maria in writing the past chapters and this one when you'll read the next ones. Unfortunately she won't have time for this anymore, but I'm happy that she finally will start her new life. So, even if she is an E/C-shipper, I'd like to dedicate this chapter to her!

Fortunately I'm not left all alone, for Lotte Isilya helped me to clear up some last errors, too.

Please review, no matter if you like my story or if you have some comments for me. Since review-answers apparently aren't allowed here anymore, I can only get back to you if you have an e-mail address in your profile, or something like that.

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**Chapter 11 - The veil is lifted**

Tears of confusion and fear streamed down Noelle's face, yet she did not wipe them away. The young woman merely stumbled onward as fast as she could, as if she were chased by the devil itself. 'He is insane! He must not find me!' Erik's voice, with all its pain and anger, echoed in her head. An emotional turmoil raced within her. The mere thought of a man who up until recently evoked in her unconditional trust, now brought forth her worst fear. It appeared he had changed into a completely different person.

Noelle didn't know where to go; she had lost all sense of direction and was trapped in the darkness of the catacombs. When her bare feet met only cold, wet stone she gathered she had left Erik's house. 'Where am I? I can't cry for help - _he_ might hear me.' She hesitated a moment, trembling from cold and fear. 'Do not stop!' An inner voice cried in alarm and Noelle continued her flight, feeling her way along the wall.

She reached a corner. Noelle hesitated and strained her ears to perceive anything that might help her decide where to go. There was only a soft sound of dripping water mingled with her heavy breathing. 'I know there must be people nearby! Somebody has to help me!' It had been a long time since she had last longed for company other than Erik's. Now she wanted nothing more than to get as far as she could away from him. She had not realized the true value of his presence, until her delicate sanctuary came crushing down upon her.

Suddenly new sounds reached her ears, distant at first, then coming closer and closer - low, screeching noise. 'Rats!' Noelle pressed against the damp wall, wishing away the bleakness of her situation. A moment later, she continued along the wall and around the corner. Standing still was not an option.

**OOO**

Ayesha did not like the tunnels. The stench was awful to her sensitive nose and it was difficult to find a dry path. Every now and then, the cat sat down and cleaned her paws and fur. She was in no hurry, and Noelle left an obvious trail to follow.

She had hoped that the woman would lead her to an interesting place. Perhaps Noelle was going home, and would reward her with a treat? After all, Ayesha liked that woman, and they had become friends. But it appeared that Noelle wandered around rather aimlessly and in a very unpleasant area, so the cat began to lose interest.

A sharp bitter scent distracted Ayesha. Instinctively her fur bristled and her tail flicked nervously. She could handle a few rats at a time, but she hated the filthy rodents. Luckily, the little tunnel-dwellers apparently preferred to avoid the cat this time and scurried away. Or did they fear something else? Ayesha's attention shifted to another tunnel, while Noelle moved on.

**OOO**

Erik's search was taking longer than he had expected. 'Where has she wandered off? She couldn't possibly find a way out on her own!' Hardly anyone ventured into the labyrinthine tunnels surrounding his refuge beneath the church. It made find Noelle's trail easier, but made it difficult to follow. Erik could use no shortcuts; it was impossible to tell where she had gone. Her path crossed itself on the many junctions and was often lost where she appeared to have walked through a flooded tunnel. The once advantages of his refuge were turning against him.

Erik did not call for her. The misleading echoes in these tunnels might only frighten her further, and he hoped she would come to a stop somewhere instead of continuing her flight. He also knew that there were exits to other cellars and some that led directly to the streets. Most were blocked or well hidden, either by him or by the Parisians, but they were not soundproof as a rule. Erik had to be careful not to draw attention.

He occasionally spotted the long tails of rats vanishing into cracks in the walls, but most of the time he only heard them. Although Erik moved quietly, they feared the fire of his torch and were not hungry enough to get near a grown, strong man. He was not certain whether the human rats that sometimes were down there would be as wise. Erik was confident in his ability to move around safely in the catacombs, but he was growing more and more worried about Noelle.

**OOO**

There were more corners than she could count. Sometimes Noelle would stumble upon a dead end, only to go back in search of another way. 'Why are there no doors and no people?' She was very confused – Noelle could not imagine which part of Paris this might be. The smell was sickening and made her miserable state of mind only worse. 'Did I enter a sewer-tunnel near the Seine? This stench is as bad as when Erik came back the other night.' Until then she had not realized that the air around her was as stale as in Erik's rooms, if not worse. There had always been enough air to breathe, but Noelle had never felt the refreshing breeze from a wide open window. She rightfully began to suspect that she was not on the streets of Paris, but steadfastly denied the only logical alternative. Noelle held on to the withering hope that she had only taken a wrong turn. She was about to turn back when her hands suddenly found a ladder. It appeared to be firmly attached to the wall.

Noelle's ears picked up a faint sound from above and she listened harder. 'Those are voices!' She nearly let out a cry of relief, but restrained herself. 'I do not know yet if these people will help me, or if they are as unpredictable as Erik.' Noelle tried to understand what the muffled voices were saying, but it was futile. Finally she grasped the ladder with a shaking hand and began to climb it.

At last, she reached a landing. The voices appeared nearer now, but although she gathered that there were at last two men, the words were muffled. 'I still hear them above me. How can I get there?' When Noelle tried to climb on the landing, she hit her head on a ceiling she had not expected to be there. She hissed a curse and rubbed her head with her hand.

'What sort of place is this?' She reached up and felt cold bars; between them her fingers touched the rough surface of wood. Noelle tried to push and was surprised when the wood gave way. She nearly lost her balance due to its unexpected lack of resistance.

It took a few moments for her to realize she could see something. She squinted instinctively to shield her eyes from the bright light streaming from the crack she had opened. Although a bit blurry through the veil of tears in her eyes, there were distinct colors and shapes. She recognized her own hand, holding up the dark wooden board, which had covered the grating above her head. Through the rusty bars she saw a room full of barrels, bathed in dim light. Suddenly something tickled her hand that was closed firmly around the ladder.

All traces of relief at having regained her sight vanished at once when Noelle faced a filthy rat sniffing at her fingers. For a moment, she froze, but it took a single sound from the rodent for Noelle to regain all senses and she instantly withdrew her hand. The abrupt movement cost the woman her balance and, screaming, she found herself thrown off the ladder and into darkness once more.  
When she hit the hard floor, a sharp pain shot through her ankle and the arm with which she had protected her head. It was hard for her to form a single coherent thought or to assess her current location.

A rough voice from above cut through the silence. It was much louder and clearer than before. "What was that?"

"A rat. Don't get excited."

"That was no rat ... at least not one with four legs and a long tail."

"You are hearing ghosts." The other voice dismissed.

When Noelle heard someone step on the wooden board she held her breath. "Look here! There is a trapdoor!" A second later the board was lifted again, only this time Noelle was more careful and instantly scurried away into shadow.

"It's another cellar!" Now the other man became alarmed, too. "We have to look down there. Can you open it, Jacques?"

An inner voice told Noelle that she did not want to be found by those men. She rose with shaking knees and winced when she tried to put weight on her injured ankle. Terrified, she looked around for an escape route. Now that there was some light, she noticed that she was indeed in a cellar – damp walls surrounded her completely. The ceiling wasn't very high and the ladder led up to a narrow landing in a low niche. She herself appeared to be standing in the middle of a long tunnel with no visible ending.

She heard a crack, followed by the noise of the grating being lifted and hobbled away. Fleeing from the men meant heading into darkness once more. Soon Noelle had to feel her way along the wall as if she were still blind.Sweat beaded on her forehead as pain and fear began taking their toll. She could not understand what the men were saying, their voices fading in the echo of the catacombs. But when she turned to check whether she was followed, a faint glimmer caught her attention - right behind a corner she had just rounded.

Panic rose in her and erased all thoughts of pain as Noelle broke into a frantic run. Every few moments she glanced over her shoulder, but she did not notice that suddenly another light appeared in front of her. Instinctively, she lashed out at the tall dark figure that appeared to block her path. Her worst nightmares came true when she felt intense heat on her forearm and smelled the stench of scorched cloth and hair. It did not matter that in reality she had merely grazed the flame of a torch; in her mind she was back in the menacing fire at the Opera House. She tried to scream, but a large hand clasped over her mouth her mouth and strong arms held her so tightly she could not move at all.

Noelle slipped into unconsciousness before the fallen torch went out on the floor. A moment later, she was carried away.

**OOO**

Erik instantly knew to whom the startled cry that suddenly echoed through the catacombs belonged, and his suspicions were confirmed as he stumbled upon the trail Noelle had left in her wake. However, he hesitated when he heard strange male voices. 'Should I let them find her? I am certain she can't show them the way to the refuge. This might be the best solution for both of us.'

But he found himself unable to turn away. Instead he remembered how Noelle had allowed him to help and guide her with blind trust. He had to admit that her company had been somewhat pleasant, even if it had been difficult at times. The memory of the happy expression on her face, when he had read to her or had played the violin resurfaced in his mind. Bewildered, he realized that part of him did not want to let her go.

'It was only an illusion. She cannot stay. And I need to go back to Christine.' Erik tried to clear his mind. He reminded himself of what had happened when Noelle had touched his unmasked face. 'I must not let down my guard again.' But before he could leave, Erik heard a cracking noise and the voices became louder. They did not sound friendly. Slowly, he approached the tunnel where he expected Noelle to be.

'Why can't I hear her anymore?' It was not only because of his vow to protect her that he was worried. 'She screamed. Perhaps she is hurt.' Erik did not want to show himself, but he wanted to be certain that Noelle was unharmed and that the men would help her out of the catacombs. He stopped before rounding a corner when he heard hasty steps and saw the shimmer of light. But before he could extinguish the torch to hide his presence, it was knocked out of his hand.

While the flame got drowned in a shallow pool of dirty water, Erik wrestled with the struggling body that had run into him. Although her features were full of panic and she was quite dirty, it unmistakably was Noelle. The sleeve of her nightgown had caught fire, but it was immediately extinguished by Erik in his attempts to get a hold of her.

He did not want to be discovered by anyone and covered her mouth firmly with his hand before she could scream. However, their brief fight had not been soundless, and a short, stocky man with a gas-lamp rounded the corner only a moment before Erik vanished into a narrow tunnel. Without thinking he had dismissed the idea of handing Noelle over to the stranger. Instead Erik had picked her up when she had fainted and hid her beneath his cape.

Jacques bent down to examine the fallen torch. He lifted his knife - the light from the lamp reflecting menacingly on its blade. With a step towards a niche in the wall, he illuminated the entry of another tunnel. A fierce hiss and piercing blue eyes startled him.

Cursing wildly, Jacques staggered backwards. Never before had he seen a cat like this. Its fur was pale, but her paws and face were brown. Obviously the cat was unimpressed with his - it kept hissing and growling. Jacques got angry, but when he tried to attack the cat, it scratched him and ran off in another direction. Furious, he followed it a few steps, but soon lost sight of the nimble animal. His companion called him and, grudgingly, he went back to the ladder.

To be continued …


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